#everybody just pray its only a few hours or days i guess :/

[anotherpapercut]

I'm not gonna use Tumblr much until I get all of the features of my account back because this is ridiculous. normally I'd say message me for an alternative but obviously that won't work and I'm not really on many other social medias sooooo feel free to add me on Snapchat if you would like the ability to message me, if we're mutuals/have talked etc I'll also give you my Instagram or Facebook I guess, I just don't want everyone to be able to see my face lmao

mostly you will find me on candy crush and solitaire until this is resolved 🤙🤙

Snapchat: evilleagueevil

fuckin Goodreads I guess?: goodreads.com/orionspencer

[commanderserwin]

love again.

↦ pairing(s): erwin smith x reader &&& levi x reader

↦ word count: 3.9k 

↦ anon request: Hiiii💜 May I request a scenario or HC (whatever you wanna write💜) for the reader being in a relationship with Erwin but when he dies he leaves a letter for her that says that Levi will take care of her (because she's pregnant and he doesn't want her to be alone) and after a while Levi and the reader fall in love because he's a really great 'father' for her daughter 💜

↦ author’s note(s): thanks 2 anon for breaking my heart !!! square up please what made u think u can send this to me!!!!!! goin to cry!!!!!! but please enjoy ☹︎♡

ps. i also tweaked a little but yep that’s all! happy breaking hearts everybody!

love again - ii. [coming soon!]

╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍

When you wake, the immediate morning hues surprised the room as it entered through the window and the air in a lazy daze. The silence in the room is always the same, until you glanced at Erwin quietly writing at the little table. He looked up at the same time you looked at him, and that was when you noticed that he his eyes were red, and his cheeks covered in tears. He hurriedly wiped them, turning away, and walked towards the bed where you were like you didn’t just catch him crying. He sniffed your hair, feeling his still wet cheeks with his tears. He took your hand over your big bump, and laid his head on your chest. You let him rest for a few minutes, hearing him sniffle and clear his throat as you kissed his forehead, urging him to look up at you. 

“What’s wrong?” You mumbled against his forehead, while you pecked his nose, “Why are you crying?”

“Nothing,” he stuttered, smiling against your chest. He kissed your heart, then up to your lips. Erwin smiled against yours, and he laid on his side, still his hand on your bump. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Erwin, it isn’t nothing when it’s making you cry,” you whispered, holding him close. To ease the somber morning, you joked, “Look at you, making my favorite dress wet.” 

“I’ll buy you another one,” he answered, kissing you again. He pulled away from your embrace, and you sat up stretching your arms over your head. He grabbed something off of the table, and stared at it sadly after a few seconds. 

“You better, Commander,” you said, taking the blankets off of your body. He sat opposite you on the bed, and he hastily gave you a sealed letter with his clean handwriting of your name and the year. You took it, ready to open it, when he stopped you. “What’s inside?” 

“It’s something that I want you to have…”

“Erwin,” you warned, feeling tears forming on your eyes. He sniffed again, offering you a smile. 

“I want you to read it when I’m gone,” he firmly said, his hand squeezed your hand. 

“Don’t you use that tone with me. You know I hate it when you use your commander voice at me,” you chastised, pulling away. Erwin gently grabbed it back as he brought it to his lips. 

“Promise me,” Erwin pleaded, kissing your hand. “You have to promise me.” 

Looking at the letter, you were scared of what was inside. Millions of things has ran through your head, angrily guessing what could it contain. You didn’t even want to think of the letter as his last, when he will eventually…

No, you thought, you’ve been by his side after all these years, watching him be ranked Commander of the Corps while you became one of his Captains. No, he’s strong, and…

“Erwin, don’t speak like that,” you shakily said, tears now falling on the letter, “Don’t speak like you’re going… Just no, okay?” 

“But you have to promise me,” he pleaded, wiping your tears away. “Promise me.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, sighing loudly. You looked at his eyes, with his own tears falling, “I promise. I promise.” 

Erwin playfully patted your hair, and bend down at the level of your bump as he started his routine of talking and humming tunes that he remembers. After that he helped you get out of the bed, as you watched him fold the blankets and arrange the pillows. You swaddled towards the bathroom, ready to start the day. 

While in the shower, you couldn’t help but softly sob at the way he cried, as if he was already saying ‘goodbye.’ And it’s too soon, even after all those years in the military together, crushing and dating, it’s all too soon just when it was getting to the best part. You quickly rinsed yourself, hoping you didn’t look like you were crying your eyes out. You clothes yourself, and exited the bathroom. 

Erwin chuckled, standing up from the table as he waited for his turn. He kissed you on the temple, patting your bump. Your old uniform doesn’t fit you anymore but you made it work by borrowing his shirt and clinching it to make it work. Once he exited the bathroom, you watched him dry himself, and wear his trousers. You turned around, helping him with his shirt, as you buttoned him up. You still buttoned the end of his sleeves just like the usual, feeling the hollowness of the right sleeve. 

You pressed your hand against his face, bringing him down so that you could peck at his forehead, “Erwin, don’t make this the last time I button your shirt.” 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

The meeting started solemnly, Hange, Moblit, Levi, and his squad was present. The younger members grinned in passing, looking at each other as they took note of your growing bump. Erwin helped you down to sit, holding your arm as you sit down, holding on to your bump and the armrest. You swatted him away, insisting that you were okay. He stole a kiss on your lips, and the kids snickered as you jokingly scrunched your face at them. The Commander sat on the opposite side of the long table. 

Erwin remembered the first time he was attracted to you, and it was right at that very chair. You were one of the toughest soldiers, and your whole demeanor demanded respect, wanting none of the sweet talk and bullshit. It was the very way he started falling in love with you. He did admit that whenever you were in the room with him during meetings, he was scared to meet your eyes as you always burrowed your brows whenever he speaks as you were deep in thought. And that’s still the very way you are. It was the way you crossed your legs, and leaned on the armrest with your hand next to your face, and your index finger on your temple. It was the simple action that made him attracted to you until he got the courage to speak his mind, and asked you out. He thought you were going to reject him, but you just blushed and tucked your hair behind your ear as you shook on the date. 

The Commander cleared his throat, and only your eyes moved to give him your whole attention. He always blinked surprised whenever you do that during meetings, and that commenced the meeting. Erwin watched you intently, eyes moving back and forth to his and the other members of the meeting, as you never spoke a word. He publicly claimed that you were staying behind and you nodded, hand immediately going to your bump. 

It was there when Erwin’s and Levi’s eyes met for a quick second, Levi’s subtle body language faltering for a second. You caught on that tiny detail, and etched it into your memory. It was like they knew something you didn’t it. Captain Levi made a mistake of slightly turning his head towards your direction directly at the end of the table. That just solidified your guess, it is about you. Erwin caught your eyes, watching the him and Levi in the act, and he turned slightly away. He didn’t try to look at you during the whole meeting, as he spoke darkly and firmly on the plan, and all you could do is pray and hope that whoever is controlling everything gives Erwin back to you after this mission. 

Please, you pleaded silently, bring him back to me. Always.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

It was a long night, as you tapped on the table, thinking of what is happening. You slept for a few hours before that but the raging thought always caught up to you, clawing its way to your mind, leaving you hopeless without knowing, helping… If you were there, would it be different? If you weren’t pregnant, would you be fighting alongside Erwin? Is he fine? Is he hurt? Is he…

Someone knocked on the door of your house. Erwin thought it be best if you stayed in his house during this mission so that you could officially take your leave as the barracks isn’t best suited for a pregnant lady. You almost knocked over the chair, hurriedly opening the door to the house. 

Levi pulled down his hoodie, his brows deep in thought. Chuckling, you opened the door so that he could enter and he quietly did as he settled on the dining table. “Where’s Erwin?” You began, starting the fire to heat a drink for him, “Please don’t tell me that he chose to chatter away to his superiors than to me, his pregnant girlfriend, or else I am going to march right there-.”

“He’s dead.” 

The kettle in your hand trembled as your hold on it faltered but you held it tightly as you poured. His words echoed in your head, but you just blinked at him. He’s dead. Erwin’s dead. “What do you mean?” 

Levi tapped on the letter in the middle of the table, afraid to look at your eyes. Once he finally had the courage, he can feel the slow burn at his heart as you wept quietly, bring your hand to your head. He watched your hands tremble, still bringing him tea. He watched you drag your chair as you sit down, hand at your bump. “[Y/N], Erwin’s dead.” 

“That’s a sick joke, Levi. Fuck you,” you cursed, standing up at your chair. You paced around, holding on your heart. Erwin’s isn’t dead. He always comes back. You didn’t know your tears were falling heavily and you stopped to meet Levi’s soft eyes as he shook his head. “Levi, please... Erwin, he can’t...”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, standing up in front of you. He watched you break down, crying loudly, clutching your bump and your heart. The least that he could is let you cry on his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your figure and once you leaned to him, and grabbed him, he embraced you and let you cry your eyes out. He pulled away for a minute, “Erwin wants you to read his letter. No buts, you promised.”  

The following day, you packed up out of the house, wearing the key around your neck. You crept behind the back door, adorning the green coat that was wrapped around your body, as you walked to take a seat. Everybody didn’t even bothered to shy away their gasps as you entered, not really expecting you still take your place as Captain. But you did, the least that you could do is listen to Hange talk and uncover the truth that Erwin was dreaming about it. 

Levi watched you carefully at the corner of his eyes, as somebody helped you to sit down, as you breathed deeply, holding on to the armrest  as you crossed your legs, and fixed your index on your temple as usual. He will never forget how Erwin would repeat it, being attracted to the way you sit. He watched you pay no attention to the man helping you sit, staring right at Levi, as the meeting began. 

Hange spoke about the whole day, the discoveries they found at Grisha’s basement, and it stabbed your heart when you remembered Erwin telling you about it. He wanted to be there, he wanted to learn the truth, and being in this meeting means that he could learn it through you. Hange held your hand as the two of you exited together, blabbering to ease your pain about baby names. She made sure you’ve got somebody as you arranged to make you move back to the base. 

For the next week, you’ve spent the your days inside Erwin’s room. It still smelled like him. Everything still smells like him even the sheets, even his towel was on the chair since he left it in a hurry. It still smelled like a lingering lavender, creeping around the room as he would always put that on when he would sleep. The bed looks so empty without him there reading quietly and suddenly perking up when he would watch you enter and groan about your day. He’d close his book and would hang your coat inside the cabinet, as he listened to you yap. It was the most simplest things you missed. And you missed him dearly. 

The letter he wrote is behind your pillow, and he described the day that he wrote it. He described how your growing stomach was starting to be marked from stretching, he described how he would often sleep on his stomach so that he could still wrap himself around you, so that he could hold you in your sleep. His letter shifted to asking for forgiveness for leaving you too soon. He didn’t want you to leave you alone so he asked Levi if he could look after you. He also specifically mentioned that you couldn’t say no, because he knows how hard you’ll argue just to get your way. This time, he wrote, it’ll never work because he needs you to be happy when he passes. 

The next morning, Captain Levi stood beside you as you barked orders to the new recruits. You didn’t move much, not wanting to tire yourself so you announced that if they have any questions, they could just come forward. He watched the recruits try on the gear and hand-combat with you. 

“Captain [Y/N]!” 

“At ease,” you smiled, lacing your hands at your back as they saluted you. You nodded at them, stepping back so that they could leave. “Take a rest, then come back.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“I am a soldier, no?” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Levi hissed, “Why are you here?” 

Turning around, you bent down slightly to meet his face. “You want to know the truth, Levi? Huh, Erwin just died and I’m pregnant with his child. I can’t be…”

“[Y/N]…”

“I can’t…. I cannot be in that house alone. So, just give me this.” 

“You’re on leave-.” 

“Levi, I am begging you,” you said, pushing away the tears that was forming on your eyes. “I need to be here.” 

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

“Isla?” 

The two year started mumbling, padding her tiny feet as she squealed around. You could hear her heaving herself up after she fell, and started running again to find out where you voice was coming from. You hid behind a countertop listening to her mumble, and after she turned a corner, you surprised her, raising her up in mid-air as you give her smooches on her chubby cheeks. She started giggling hysterically, latching on to your cheeks as you continue to fly her around. 

“If she throws up, that’s on you,” Levi mumbled, taking off his jacket while he got himself a cup of tea. You didn’t hear him enter, and both you and your daughter made a face while Levi sipped his tea. 

“No fun,” you mumbled, carrying Isla around your arm. 

Isla crossed her arms, and copied you with a slight lisp. “No fun.” 

“That’s right, Isla,” you kissed her as you gently place her down the floor, walking her way around, opening little cabinets as she explored the kitchen. “So, how was your day?” 

“Good,” Levi sipped, crossing his legs as he watched Isla intently hold a small plate, “New recruits, training, meetings, paperwork, same old.” 

“That sounds like fun, huh,” you winked, stepping over you daughter as she made a mess of the hidden plates you kept. You made your way to where Levi was sitting on the dining table, placing a freshly cooked lunch. Levi moved forward, helping himself to the meal as you went to grab more utensils and Isla’s favorite plate. “Hange?” 

“Always in the lab…” He answered, bending down to meet your daughter’s wondering stares at his black trousers. He mumbled quietly, “I’ve got you a present.” 

Isla stood up, holding on to his knees as he watched her surprise her with a doll. She squealed loudly, making you turn around, holding you waist with one hand. She giggled as Levi gave her a doll, and heaved her up to his lap. He placed his arm around your daughter’s body as he balanced her on his crossed legs, holding the doll with the other as he whispered right at her ear, moving around the doll.

“Please do not tell that you’ve bought her another doll?” You sighed, walking to the table. “Have you seen her pile? All dolls from you.” 

“It’s her birthday, isn’t?” Levi said, holding Isla on his lap as they make little conversations about the doll. “I’ve got her a book, don’t worry.” 

“You always spoil her,” you countered, putting a serving on his plate. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“What’s wrong is that she’ll eventually ask for more or everything.”

“I can give her everything.” 

Faltering for a second, you knew that it was a loaded statement. True enough, he’s been doing his task of taking care of you in lieu of Erwin. There wasn’t a single second in your life when you don’t think of Erwin. You always imagined how your life and Isla’s would be if he was here. Every time you looked like Isla, all you could see was Erwin’s soft eyes, exactly where she got it from. She’s slowly becoming stubborn just like his father, and it gave you no rest to move on. You always thought that after he passed, you’ll be alone now. But with Levi? Levi carried that responsibility of being a father figure to your daughter, always trying to make time to visit even just for an hour after a late night. 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty when you feel attracted to Levi. You blamed it on longing for somebody, for having somebody to help you, mentally and physically because taking care of your daughter is both taking a toll on your mind and body. You wanted Erwin, and you feel guilty when you see Levi doing the things you imagine Erwin would be doing with Isla. Because you know Erwin would’ve wanted to spoil Isla to ends, would want to carry her on his shoulders, see her grow up, run free outside with her friends when she couldn’t be tamed anymore. All those things, and your guilt is eating you up for wanting Levi to be that. 

“I’m going to put her to bed,” Levi whispered, coming next to you to put his cup on the sink where you were daydreaming your thoughts. Levi turned around so you could kiss Isla on the forehead, watching her sleep on Levi’s shoulder. He gently bumped her up, his hand behind your daughter’s head to carry her upstairs. “I’ll clean those up too, so don’t worry.” 

“It’s fine,” you whispered, watching them retreat upstairs. 

Levi stopped in his tracks, and you realized just how disheveled he looked from playing around with Isla. “I got it. Rest.” 

After he put Isla to sleep, Levi washed the plates while you sat idly on the table. To pass the time, you grabbed two clean glasses from Levi’s dishes and grabbed a bottle of wine that was hidden at the very back of the cabinet. Levi arched an eyebrow, never seeing you drink even before. You popped it open, even hushing as it made a sound, scared if Isla would wake up. He watched you turn your head towards the stairs sheepishly, waiting for your daughter to make a sound, but she didn’t. He watched you pour wine on to your glass, full to the brim, and drank it sip by sip. Levi wiped his hands on the apron, and joined you by the table. 

“Rough day?” Levi asked, pouring his own. He took note of the bags under your eyes, as you stared at him with your chin on your hand. 

“Not really,” you whispered, tapping your chin with your fingers. 

Levi stared at you. 

He slowly moved his chair until he placed his arm around your chair. The gesture made you impassive, following his eyes and where his arm was. You didn’t move a single inch, just staring at him. Levi pondered while he stared at you. He could easily read other people’s body language but yours were the hardest to decipher. He noticed this when he read the letter Erwin gave you, similar to the one he received from Erwin. 

It was silent. Both of you were staring at each other, breathing slowly wanting to not break the eye-contact, still figuring out what was going inside their minds, trying to figure out the next move. 

He watched you moved your body towards his, inching closer until your lips could touch him but never actually moving. His hand curled around your shoulder, and slowly crept to your neck to pull you to him. His lips were against yours in a split second, kissing away the taste of wine and yours in a cloudy daze. Both of yours lips moved against each others, no touches, no nothing. Not until, you stood up without breaking the kiss to sit on his lap. 

The kiss was composed, and his hands roamed your back as you slowly moved your hips. He caught the moan that escaped your mouth,  as he carried you by the back of your thighs to gently set you on the table. He moved the glasses away, as you placed your hand on the table, as he wrapped your right leg around his waist. He slowly pulled away, watching your face contort into something but you remained impassive. You pulled him down, kissing his lower lip as he kissed you back with urgency. His fingers worked on your buttons, and he stopped when he heard you sniffle. 

He pulled away, letting go of your right leg, as you laid on the table, covering your eyes with your arms. He watched your whole body shake in sobs, getting louder and louder, as your hand moved to clutch your heart. He let you rest there for a few minutes, never stopping crying as he pulled you up by your shoulder and hugged you. He wrapped his arms around your shaking figure, wetting his shoulder, as you clutched tightly on his shirt. 

Levi soothed your hair, letting you cry as much as you can. This was the only time he has seen you breakdown, and he couldn’t gnaw at the feeling at how hurt you must be from spending half of your life with Erwin and suddenly wanting to be a family, but Erwin was gone too soon. He slowly erased his feelings, he thought it was selfish of him to have you for him, as you welcomed him into your house and arms. 

But is it his fault for finally falling for somebody? Somebody who he wants to start a family with? Even if he knew you were still mourning, he couldn’t stop his feelings. Levi couldn’t, and he wants to be selfish just this once. 

[neon-junkie]

Duality - Chpt.4

Summary: There’s a handful of things you hate, like the men who continue to pester you at the Saloon after you’ve told them no, or the way strangers look at you when you decide to wear pants. But the one thing you hate that most is Micah Bell. But if you hate him so much, then why are you allowing him to wrap his hand around your neck as he grinds his crotch down against yours? Is he using you? or are you using him?

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: lots idk its multi-chapter

Rating: NSFW

[First chapter] [next chapter not posted yet]

It's funny how Micah somehow guessed the perfect size for your new lingerie. Maybe he's held you one too many times, making a mental note of how each part of your body feels in his hands. You can picture that vividly, Micah explaining to the tailor that your breast size is "this big," as he holds his hands out in a cupping motion. You pray he hasn't actually done that, but this is Micah Bell, after all. You pull on the laces of your new corset, fastening yourself up, and then shrug a pretty yet simple dress on. Today seems pleasant, well, it looked pleasant when you peered through your tent flaps this morning, groggy and half-asleep. There's nothing wrong with being a little vain, and you enjoy putting extra effort into your appearance today, fitting in your new lingerie like a glove, and dolling yourself up to... do chores... At least you're doing your chores in style!

The effort in your appearance hasn't gone unnoticed, as many camp members throw compliments your way, along with curious pairs of eyes that trail over your figure for a few moments too long, not that you mind. The camp women are particularly kind, not that they aren't to begin with, fussing and gushing over how pretty you look. Maybe this is what you needed? a day to doll yourself up and soak up all the compliments you receive? and maybe you'll do it more often, seeing as you're feeling rather wonderful today. But all good things must come to an end... you find yourself at Pearson's wagon, chopping vegetables for tonight's supper, sliding another batch off your chopping board straight into the stew pot. It's a boring job, but it beats scrubbing laundry for hours on end, constantly feeling defeated as everybody's clothes are so stained that it's impossible to get them clean. As always, you're minding your own business, your head dipped down, focusing on the task at hand. Of course, you don't notice your partner approaching, but your ears perk up as he lets out a long whistle. "My, oh my," Micah comments. "I didn't realize it was my birthday, but I appreciate you dressin' up for such a special occasion," Micah flirts as he trails over, leaning his weight against the table. He's eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat, and you notice the way he licks his lips. "Mister Bell," you monotonously greet him, "bold of you to assume I dress for anybody but myself," you jab back. Micah lets out a long and irritating laugh, drawn out for longer than necessary. He peers over his shoulder, checking to see if anybody is nearby, before scooting a little closer to speak directly to you. "Guess you are dressin' for me when you're wearin' the lingerie I brought you," he grins. You double-check your surroundings, and once you're happy with how empty the coast is, you lean across the table, speaking under your breath. "It's a replacement, considering you ruined my last set," you remind him, shaking your head as you speak. Yet again, Micah chuckles. "And I'll ruin this set too," he smirks, and you unfortunately know that's a promise. "And then you'll have to buy another replacement," you tut. "That's fine by me. I ain't short on cash, sweetheart. I'll buy and ruin as many as I like." "I ain't your sweetheart, I told you that last night," you grumble under your breath. You straighten your back, and speak slightly above your normal tone of voice, "now if you'll excuse me, Mister Bell, I'm quite busy here," you brush him off, returning to chopping vegetables. "Oh, I do apologise for taking up your precious time, darlin'," Micah sarcastically replies, raising his hands innocently as he moves his weight off the table. "I'll leave you to it," he says with a soft laugh, then turns heel and wanders back through camp, probably debating which victim to pester next. Your brows furrow as you watch him leave, grumbling to yourself. He knows damn well that neither of you are meant to bring your business into camp, and he especially knows that you're not meant to openly talk about it. Somebody could be lurking nearby, somebody could be on the other side of the wagon, accidentally stumbling upon this juicy piece of information. The camp loves gossip, and something like that would spread like a wildfire. You hate how vividly you can picture it, the faces of everybody scowling your way as they find out that you're sleeping with a pest that you claim to hate. You've had one too many fights with Micah, both inside and outside of camp; imagine how hypocritical people would find you if they suddenly found out that you enjoy his company when nobody else is around. Honestly, what else did you expect? Micah rarely ever keeps his word, and you're surprised that he did when he said he'd buy you replacement lingerie. Oh well, that conversation is done now, and you'll have to keep on your toes around camp, just in case Micah decides to try and pull something stupid on you.

  By the time evening rolls around, your body is exhausted. You've fastened your corset a little too tight this morning, although at the time it felt comfortable. After slipping into something loose and cosy, you start your final chore for today - guard duty. Lenny makes a passing comment about how tonight is quiet and boring, as always, and wishes you luck as he hands you the rifle.

Lenny was right, this is boring. You're currently leaning against a tree on the outskirts of camp, the rifle gripped loosely in your hands; you can feel yourself nodding off, your head dipping and your eyes falling shut. Unlike others, you try to take your jobs seriously, so you push your weight off the tree, doing another lap of the camp in an attempt to wake yourself up.

As you pass by a lantern, you take out your pocket watch, checking how long you have left before you can finally crawl into bed. It's 2am, one hour to go. You make your way down one of the paths leading into camp, eventually dipping off into the trees once you meet the entrance; you never normally trail this far from camp, but why not shake things up a bit?

"Fancy meetin' you out here," Micah comments out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin, almost dropping your rifle.

"Shit, Micah!" you snap at him, "why you gotta scare me like that?"

"Ain't you on guard duty? you ain't doin' a very good job," he snickers, leaning his weight against a nearby tree, his hands resting on the waistband of his pants. Usually, Micah would rest his hands on his gun belt, but he's stripped of most clothing tonight, wandering around in his simple pants, shirt, and hat.

"I must be more tired than I thought, I'm surprised I didn't notice a buffoon approaching me," you jab back, rolling your eyes at his comment. No doubt, Micah has been stalking you for some time, waiting for the right moment to give you a sudden wakeup call.

"Oh, doll, you poor thing. You want me to go and warm your bed up for you?" Micah taunts, making you grip your rifle tighter. He lets out a chuckle, noticing how angry you look, even through the darkness of the trees.

"What is it with you?" you snap. "Did you really come out here just to pester me?!"

"Mhm," Micah agrees with a nod. He shifts his weight off the tree, taking a few steps over to you, bridging the gap. Before you can swat him away, his hand is pulling at your neckline, peering down your blouse. "Why ain't you wearing the lingerie that I brought you?" he asks, pouting dramatically.

"Off," you command, slapping his hand away. Micah begins to laugh, and without thinking, you slap him across the face, cutting his laughter short.

"Oooh," Micah sighs, giving his cheek a rub. "Not very friendly tonight, are we?"

"I ain't very friendly to anybody who puts their dirty paws on me," you grunt, and turn heel, attempting to walk away. Micah reaches out to take a hold of your wrist, his grip tightening when you try to shake him off. "Doll, I only came out here to let off some steam with you."

"You really think I'm gonna fuck you after that?"

"Yep."

You let out a long, defeated sigh. There are two options presented to you: you can either turn down Micah and let the next hour slowly trail by, bored with nothing to do, or you can enjoy his unwelcomed company, tiring yourself out before bed.

"Alright, but let's make this quick," you agree, pulling your wrist free from Micah's grasp.

There's an awkward pause, both of you staring at each other, as if you've both suddenly forgotten how to initiate sex. Micah then waves his hands about, and orders you to bend over against a nearby tree. "We ain't supposed to do this in camp, that was part of the agreement," you comment.

"This ain't in camp, it's in a forest, sweetheart," Micah corrects you. Well, he's not exactly wrong...

You roll your eyes and let out a huff, but prop your rifle up against a tree. Your skirts are bunched up to your hips, reaching beneath them to pull your undergarments down, letting them settle around your thighs; you then turn to question why Micah is stood there awkwardly.

"I was just enjoying the show," Micah replies with a shrug. He begins unfastening his pants as he approaches, palming at his cock with one hand, whilst the other dips between your legs to slide a finger over your slit.

Micah slides his fingers over you a few times, before slipping a digit in, slowly working his finger in and out. His head dips down to catch your lips, lightly kissing you, enjoying the soft whimpers you make against his lips. He doesn't bother sliding another finger in, and moves his hand away to nudge you against the tree.

Your hands rest on the trunk, and you peer over your shoulder to watch as Micah holds your skirt up around your hips, his other hand slicking his cock against your folds. He's clearly in a rush as he doesn't bother teasing you for long, instead, slipping his cock in and slowly sheathing himself inside you.

Micah mutters something under his breath as he grips onto your hips, and pulls you back onto his cock, pushing himself as deep as he can go. He holds himself there as he lets out a long, deep groan, followed by starting his thrusts, jumping straight into a quick pace. You feel something tap against your foot, peering down to see Micah tapping at you; you know what he wants, so you spread your legs wider, arching your back, gripping onto the tree trunk for support.

This needs to be quick. You dip your hand down between your legs, rubbing at your clit, building your orgasm with Micah's help. He's quieter than usual, the sound of skin against skin filling the air, and hopefully not echoing all the way back to camp.

A hand weaves its way around your waist, and Micah pulls you upright, your back pressed to his chest. He speaks in a deep, husk voice, almost growling into your ear. "I am a little disappointed that you ain't wearing my fancy lingerie, means I'll have to wait to cut it off you," he comments, still attempting to thrust into you, despite the awkward position.

"You ain't even got your knife on you," you say with a laugh. Your laughter is cut short as Micah moves his hand to your neck, gripping oh-so-perfectly, just how you like it.

"I'd use my bare hands, but I can be patient, I'll wait," he says with a soft shrug.

Micah manages to make do, bucking up into you, your hand still rubbing your clit. His thumb removes itself from your neck, only to be replaced with his lips, sucking and kissing your skin so hard that you know it's going to leave marks. You mutter his name, and Micah pleasantly hums as a reply. "Come on, sweetheart," he urges, picking up the pace, and chuckling at his pun.

Your back may be hurting, but you roll your head against Micah's shoulder, moaning away. Only your moans are cut short as you suddenly orgasm, tightening around Micah's length. He quickly removes himself from you, almost shoving you out of the way as he pulls out, spilling himself over the forest floor. "Hell," Micah mutters under his breath, finishing up, and then tucking himself away.

"Pretty," Micah comments as he lightly slaps your ass, just as you're pulling your undergarments back up.

"I know," you smugly reply, and Micah giggles at your comment. He reaches in his back pocket, fishing out a packet of cigarettes, and offers you one. Rather than using one of his matches, you light yours on the end of Micah's, blowing smoke in his face on your first exhale.

"Petty," Micah grumbles, "c'mon, I'm sure your shift has finished by now."

"You can walk ahead, Micah. I ain't risking being seen wandering into camp with you."

"Alright, suit yourself," he shrugs, turning heel and heading back to camp.

You watch him go, wandering off into the darkness, disappearing into the trees, the light from his cigarette eventually fading black. It's too dark out here to check your pocket watch, but after a handful of minutes, you finish off your smoke, and assume it's time to wake the next person up for guard duty.

The walk back to camp is quiet, as always, and for some reason, you're looking out for Micah as you enter camp. He's nowhere to be seen, probably wandered off down the shoreline, and you can't help but scold yourself for being so curious as to his whereabouts.

You shake your head, trailing over to your tent after passing the rifle over to the next camp member on watch, and soon fall asleep, despite the stinging sensation on your neck. 

[kettle-on]

(Oh woops, this is a lot longer than it was supposed to be, but I got carried away. Still not super happy with it, but I figured I'd post it sooner than later, before I changed my mind completely!)

Monty Python and the Barbados Fic

Eric x Michael x OFC

Chapter 4

attn: @jessm78 @coincidence-ithinknots-blog

Evenings at Heron Bay were lively, silly, rowdy, and populous. The Pythons had decided they would have guests to dinner every night, and surprisingly this proved not too difficult. Apparently Barbados was hopping with friendly famous faces at this time of year.

Mick Jagger continued his regular visits with Jerry on his arm, and one or two pairs of glamorous mystery Misters and Misses. It was revealed through many rounds of Charades that the Rolling Stone had an extraordinary talent for both miming and deciphering interpretive dance. His rendition of “the eruption of Mt Vesuvius” was met with roaring applause, and his “Sex Pistols” brought the evening to an un-toppable peak.

Things would take a turn, however, when an entirely sober Graham introduced a favourite game of his called “Poor Pussy” in which the chosen “pussy” approaches guests and, through meowing and distinctly feline behaviour, must make the guest laugh whilst they attempt to pet pussy’s head and say with a straight face three times: “poor pussy.” When one does laugh, they become the new “pussy.” This last rule changed quickly when it arose that multiple “pussies” had taken over the room, and hardly a word could be spoken from the guests through their laughter.

Perhaps the most uncommon news, however, came from casual chat. A visiting Keith Moon explained his plans for a new house in Malibu, anxious for acres of privacy and leaving behind his celebrity neighbours. Jagger the Charades king told of all-night New York City parties, to which Graham countered: “At least in London, one has the good sense to wrap up before sitting down to breakfast.”

Y/N was sure that, had she been keeping a list, she’d have been privy to the business of every star in modern comedy and rock and roll.

The next morning came too early once again, but Y/N was this time drawn to the bedroom window. From here she could see the team of gardeners hired to keep Heron Bay looking lush and groomed. She couldn’t help but feel that with each day that passed she was floating further and further away from what she remembered normal life to be like.

Not wanting to disturb a sleeping Eric, she made her way to the morning room that looked out to the curved courtyard. At one end of the room was a large painted screen of columns in some beautiful ancient scene. Each table surface in this room was topped with a floral arrangement, antique candlesticks, and photographs of visitors and houseguests. Decades of beautiful faces and elegant dresses, men in uniform, and posed portraits looked back at her from their frames.

What was this world? she had long wondered. Painted screens, stone pediments, beaches, house staff, tennis courts, and private ponds. Marriages, affairs, and cover-ups. Churchill, the Duke of Edinburgh, Lord and Lady Something of Somewhere Unpronounceable, and movie stars and rock n roll gods. And who was she in all of this?

From the near distance, she heard puffs of exertion and approaching steps. Michael had committed himself to continuing his disciplined daily morning jog and here he was returning.

“Ah,” he panted, “Morning.”

“Good morning. Nice run?”

“Well,” puff, “it’s not Holloway, but it’ll do.”

When he caught his breath, he noticed her uneasiness. With a smiling face and a tone he’d learned from his mother, he suggested:

“Tea?” --

It was much later that night that Y/N found herself again wandering the corridors alone. The afternoon had passed with a visit from Eric’s friend Ricky Fataar with whom he’d made The Rutles the previous year, and his wife, Heron Bay’s proprietress Penelope Tree. The couple had dropped in for what they called a “business luncheon,” and extended an invitation to the Python household out for a “business dinner.” The two Terrys and Eric accepted, (the Terrys hoping they might throw in a bit of “money talk” regarding their upcoming film budget) and by the time the day’s activities had come to a close, the outward dinner guests had yet to return.

In the rare quiet of the late-night, Y/N knocked on the door to the room where Michael was staying, and a friendly hum invited her into the room. A single lamp lit up the walls and floor, and a Michael in repose who was making edits to his well-kept journal.

“Do I recall correctly you said you’d brought a small library with you?” asked Y/N from the door.

“I did, indeed!” he responded, setting his journal on one of the nightstands next to the bed. “What’s the matter – can’t sleep?”

Y/N shook her head with an apologetic smirk.

“I see, and what sort of thing are you after?”

“Something, uh... gentle, I suppose. Something to escape.”

“Escape? From here? A tropical island and you’d like to escape – now that’s puzzling.” He drew back the thin blanket that covered his lower half, and swung his mostly bare legs over the side of the mattress.

“No, no,” she started, “Just something to, y’know, get out of my head for a bit.”

“Mm, is there something troubling you?” Michael eyed the three stacks of books casually adorning a side table, and inspected the choices of titles.

“Just feeling a little…” Y/N searched for a believable excuse, “homesick.”

He was not convinced. Putting his book task on pause he raised his eyebrows, requesting her further explanation. Y/N both appreciated and hated this look. Michael, though the gentlest and kindest of the troupe, would not let anything go unexplained or hidden for long, and his generosity and patience invited her to open up.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” she confessed. “I feel like I’m just getting in the way, y’know? You’re all working hard on what I’m certain will be a brilliant film, and what am I here for?”

“You’re on holiday,” he declared with what he hoped was an assuring smile.

“A holiday from what? What do I even do?” She felt the agitation rising in her voice. “It’s like I just exist day in and day out with no purpose or point. No goals and no…”

Michael’s stare was intense and he waited for her to continue.

“…future.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper when she noticed she’d drawn his undivided attention. A quiet Michael was a rare thing, and the silence stilled the air between them.

“So, I thought... maybe a… a book might help,” she attempted, but Michael was already smoothing down the bedspread, offering a space beside him which she gratefully filled.

“Is this what it’s like being famous?” she asked heavily, taking a seat. “Always surrounded by extremely talented, important people, and constantly comparing your own worth and accomplishments?”

“I suppose it is, yes. Sometimes.” Michael was usually very good at telling the truth in a palatable way.

Nevertheless, this acknowledgement only supported her anxiety. Her face fell and she closed her eyes, sensing exhaustion was on its way. She silently prayed for one of Michael’s rambling speeches, and he intuitively delivered.

“But it doesn’t have to be,” he began. “None of this comes with the expectation that you’ve earned your right to enjoy things. You don’t need to have won a Nobel Prize or sold a million records to deserve fine cutlery. But when you’re well-known, everybody wants to know you and bring you lovely things, whether or not you think you deserve them. When that happens, I think what helps is to recognize what’s there for you, and appreciate that there are all these things you can access if you’d like to. What’s important to remember is that you have options, and lots of good ones, too.

“And as far as goals and a future, well… I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that you’re already building a future just by living. And learning, and asking questions, and thinking, and wondering, and loving, and caring.”

Y/N had stayed quiet. The past few weeks of indulgence, creativity, and celebrity drama had left her feeling in a way excluded, and far away from herself. It wasn’t something she found she could explain to Eric without seeming ungrateful.

Michael continued:

“So right now, you’re on holiday somewhere you’ve never been, and learning how the other half lives. And what am I doing? Well at the moment I’m enjoying a few weeks on a beautiful island, with marvelous weather, with my wonderful friends. Together, we’re finishing up a script for a film which, if all goes well, we’ll be making later this year. That’s my job, and it keeps me working, but I’ve got the rest of my hours and days, too, and that’s when I’m living. That’s when life happens, you see, in the in-between time.

Y/N had secured a point of focus on the floor, and found it fitting that Michael’s was one of the few rooms in the building with wooden floorboards instead of the palatial stone. In this room she could be almost anywhere in the world, and at this moment she was happy to be somewhere closer to home.

“There’s no rush,” Michael added, noting her half-daze. “Life is short, but... there’s so much of it. You can stop and start and chop and change as many times as you like. It’s all life,” he slowed his pace, carefully observing her softened expression, “and it’s all yours.”

Y/N leaned back onto her elbows and contemplated her bare knees.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that one before,” she mused. “Hm. I’ve got a lot of time to fill, haven’t I?”

Michael gave a warm hum of agreement and joined her sideways, propping his head on an elbow, attentive as ever.

“And what are you going to fill it with first?” he asked.

This prospect was suddenly overwhelming, and it showed in her eyes. She took a breath and decided to choose levity for a change.

“I could work on this tan, I guess,” she playfully suggested, kicking a leg up and indicating her knees, “What do you think?”

“Very nice,” he approved. In fact, he had long admired her knees, and was grateful to the January Barbados weather for getting them out of trousers and wool tights. The previous summer at many a pub garden evening, he’d envied Eric’s long fingers resting atop Y/N’s knees, giving an occasional squeeze, and more than once catching sight of a slow glide up a thigh, disappearing under a skirt hem.

“Looks like you’re off to a good start there,” he said, allowing himself an extra-long, fully permissible eyeing up of her legs.

“And you?” she asked, “What’s next in the in-between time?”

“Well, I thought I might see what life by the ocean is like. I don’t see it very often. They’ve got waterskiing down at the bay - I might give that a go. I doubt I’ll be any good, but at least then I can say I’ve done it. Obviously a very valuable skill in London. I can see it: there I am, shooting across the lakes of Hampstead Heath. Or better still, an aquatic commute! I could start off from Blackfriars in the morning, and be in Molesey by tea-time, how’s that?”

Y/N laughed, tired from the day but grateful for Michael’s silliness. She liked this. Why couldn’t Mike be around more often? Or could she have a mini-Mike to keep in her purse and take out for impromptu pep-talks and compliments, please?

“I wonder,” he said carefully when her laughter died down. “Rather than in the way, do you think perhaps you might be feeling a bit overlooked?”

This caught her off guard. Overlooked? She never felt ignored or unappreciated. On the contrary, Eric’s attention and gestures of love came in spades. But what was it for? What really did she have to offer? She hardly expected to stand out next to her accomplished and celebrated partner and his career, nor did she wish to dull his accomplishments or stifle him. Stability would be very nice, but so too would making a name for herself be. So what did she want – life or recognition?

“Maybe,” she finally said in a small voice, too tired now to analyze any further.

How fragile she now seemed to Michael. She had opened her heart to him, and the sense of duty and the care with which he held it felt so natural. He wished he could hold it for a little longer.

Stroking kind fingers down her forearm, he took her hand, willing her out of her trance. With a closed-eyed focus on her hand, he drew her knuckles to his lips.

“So I’ve got options,” Y/N re-stated.

“Mhmm,” sounded Michael, whose lips were still appreciating her fingers.

“And I’m building a life every day,” she continued.

"Every day,” he repeated, his thumb now taking over addressing her knuckles.

“And mine is no less important than anyone else’s?”

She knew the answer, but the question brought their eyes to meet, and he held her gaze with tenderness.

“I think anyone who meets you feels lucky that they did. I know I do.”

Y/N felt whatever was left of her distress dissolve with a heavy breath. She had been heard, and she knew with certainty that her cares were safe with him.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his torso, and he enveloped her shoulders with a tight grip. His voice was low in her ear:

“You know, if it was a book you were after, I rather thought you’d have asked Terry.”

Y/N wasn’t going to bother mustering the energy to protest or to come up with a nonsense reason why she’d chosen to see Michael. She was here now, and she was perfectly content with it.

“I’m very glad you didn’t,” he confessed, and having exhausted all words, he began a slow exploration of her neck, starting with nuzzling the delicate space beneath her ear. Sensing no resistance, and hearing her approving sigh, he continued down to her shoulder, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses as he went.

He was kind and patient and open, Y/N remembered as she felt herself giving over to the moment’s tenderness, her curiosity duelling with her fatigue.

With restrained eagerness, he moved along the underside of her jaw before,

“Stop stop,” she hushed.

She was fighting with her enjoyment, but this was not a good time to discover feelings. All she wanted now was comfort and sleep. She looked at her kindred Michael half-apologetically, and he shifted aside, making a space for her to lie down and sleep. He reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, and gently pulled the sheet up to cover their spooning bodies.

Out on the patio under the moonlight, Eric lay on a lounge chair, gazing into the sky and contemplating several things: Ricky and Penelope’s marriage, Mick and Jerry’s affair, and the concept of unfaithfulness. And the very nature of frivolity, and luxury, and everything he learned from the swinging sixties of liberation and self-indulgence. And, unexpectedly, Michael.

He wriggled in his spot, unable to relax. I need to write this, he thought. He worked most things out through writing, and now he would turn to his typewriter, get his musings out on paper, and try to make some sort of sense of his brain soup.

[halothenthehorns]

Acceptance

"Hey, Harry, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Harry looked surprised but pleased as he followed Sirius into the kitchen, where Sirius watched him for a moment with a small smile before beginning, "ah, didn't get a chance to say it earlier in the mess of it all, but you don't ever have to apologize for hugging me."

Harry blushed deep crimson and looked about ready to apologize for apologizing, when Sirius laughed and threw an easy arm around him, saying, "relax pup. It's been a long, stressful few days, and I needed it, so thanks."

Harry was practically wiggling in pleasure at the affection, but still felt the need to explain himself, "it's just, I ah, I don't ever really remember hugging anyone like that before."

Sirius really hoped that, even though he couldn't be there for Harry with a home life he deserved right away, something would give and they'd both get what they wanted, and surely Harry would remember plenty of hugs from Sirius then. With so much practice of late Sirius could almost bat away how heartbreaking that was with hardly any notice, focusing on the here and now as he promised, "well like I said, you can do it as often as you like now. Pretty sure your own parents and Remus wouldn't mind from time to time either."

Harry couldn't help but laugh aloud at that.

Lily couldn't help but smile to herself as she walked up the stairs, the infectious sound of Harry's laughter bringing a smile to her own face as she moved to open her baby's room, when she heard something odd from the guest room.

Switching from one doorknob to the other she gave a gentle knock and called softly, "Remus?" She got no reply, and feeling a mounting sense of worry she cracked the door open and poked her head inside to find him seemingly passed out on the bed. She felt silly, she'd probably just heard him snore or something, when he made it again. He was curled up on his side and facing the wall, so she couldn't even properly see him, but then she reflected that Remus normally slept sprawled out so this really wasn't normal.

She'd never seen him transform before, and couldn't help but feel even more fear creeping into her, but then she reminded herself James and Sirius were being very clear, she'd even heard a firsthand account of it. Remus wouldn't transform until the exact time the moon was at its highest peak, and both boys had insisted that wasn't at least for another few hours' time.

Bolstering herself, she quickly walked over to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking it firmly and calling out his name more loudly this time.

"Go away," he grumbled. Despite how exhausted his voice sounded, she detected no hints of sleep from it, so she'd been right and something else was definitely bothering him.

"Not a chance," she replied, sitting down nearly on top of his legs to prove her point.

"You know it's moments like this I understand why you fell for James back," he groused, tearing the pillow up and throwing it over his head in a further attempt to ignore her even while he spoke. "You act just like him sometimes."

"I'll take that as a compliment right now," she responded pleasantly, still watching every inch of him with heightening worry.  "You going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to go get him then you can tell us both."

He muttered something indistinctly, and then he made that noise she'd heard again, and she finally recognized it as him repressing a sob.

"Oh Remus," she sighed reaching out to place a comforting hand on him, but then he snarled back, "Don't," with so much venom her hand froze in place of its own accord.

"Don't," he repeated, his voice only slightly more restrained. "I can't stand any more comfort from the lot of you. I can't ignore them when they come in here later, Merlin knows why they're still going to bother, just leave Lily."

She rested her hand on him then anyways, ignoring his jerk of protest. "They are coming in here for the exact same reason I'm not going away until I have to. We're still your friends Remus, your family, and if watching Sirius these past few days hasn't proved anything to you then I don't know what will. We're not giving up, on either of you."

He still didn't respond, and she decided to go with a new tactic, one she'd kept bottled up for far too long. She could well guess that Remus was either still tearing himself up about what he almost did to Harry, or still dwelling on what Peter had done to him. She decided to focus on the second, as she could at least relate to that. "You feel like you should have done something more, fought harder and never let him pull away, but at the same time you keep thinking you're lucky you've found out. At least now you can stop pretending, stop acting like you've never noticed all the signs. You hate yourself all the more for thinking it," Remus finally twitched the pillow off his face and twisted his head around to glance at her, "and yet you feel like something's finally gone and you can breath and see again."

Remus sat up then, giving her a half suspicious look and trying to hide a smile. "Did you sneak a potion into all of our drinks, you able to read our minds now?"

"No," she told him, now tucking her sons blanket in a little tighter around him. "Just experience."

It only took a moment before Remus nodded, whispering, "guess we were all waiting around for the wrong kind of explosion." It's not like they had forgotten Severus and Lily had once been friends, kind of hard to forget that, but it hadn't really occurred to Remus she must have felt at least some of what they were feeling now. Angry was the only thing that ever really came to mind if he had ever sat around and thought about it, but it wasn't until now Remus realized that Lily had been through something very similar to this once before. Snape had basically called her out and left her to the sharks when he'd turned on her that day, and as far as any of them knew he'd never looked back. Peter wasn't the first friend of Lily's to join the Death Eaters looking for something. He couldn't help himself though, he fought back with words that spilled out, "least you've finally admitted who he really was, least you didn't somehow lose your other friends trust along the way."

Lily gave him a wane smile now, gently reminding him, "as far as you lot are concerned, as Sirius has been oh so happy to remind me every chance he got, I've only just admitted yesterday how horrid a person Severus has turned into, I hardly think I can berate anyone for not seeing what's right in front of them. As for what could possibly have changed in less than a year's time that we wouldn't tell you something like that Remus-" she hated the words the moment she'd said them, watching him flinch like she'd just tossed a scalding dagger at him, but pressed on anyways, "I can't say, maybe it was Peter himself. Everybody in this world is terrified, lies and whispers will do terrible things, but that still doesn't excuse what we did. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, I'm just swearing on my life I'll not let it happen now."

"You," he began in shock, not really sure how she had come to that conclusion, "forgive me?" He returned, a real smile lighting him now. "I clearly do something to make you believe it, think I should be the one groveling."

"We can worry about blame all day love," she reminded gently, "or we can fix it. I choose the second." She didn't even hesitate to offer him Harry, asking him, "would you mind putting him down for me, I've been holding him so long my arms are likely to fall off soon."

He gave her a rouge grin, seeing right through that, but took the baby happily and cradled him for a moment as the two left, Remus going into the room while Lily padded back down the stairs. She could hear Sirius and Harry still talking boisterously in the kitchen, which confused her all the more when she saw her husband still slouched inside the living room, watching the entrance to the kitchen with something like longing on his face. She could almost instantly guess what he was feeling, so she walked over to his side and wrapped her arms tight around him as she whispered, "it's natural what you're feeling dear."

"Is that right?" He asked restlessly, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. "You can read my moods now."

She couldn't help but giggle at getting asked the same question in such a short amount of time, but said back, "you've never been very subtle about them," she reminded, peeking up and meeting his eyes.

James sighed as he looked away from her, whispering, "I know I should be happy, and I am! Harry's finally getting the start to a proper family through Sirius. It's just..." he trailed off with a hard swallow, unable to voice it aloud as it would only feel like another betrayal to his friends.

"It should be you," Lily finished for him.

James winced like she'd just slapped him, but his arms tightened around her all the more. He couldn't help it though, now that Lily had started it the words spilled out of him like a bursting dam. "Now we're going to hear about the rest of Harry's life, and he's going to make that connection to Sirius he always should have, and it's going to keep growing. What if, well what if he-" he trailed off pitifully. What if Sirius adopted Harry, which is something they were all praying for to get Harry away from those Dursleys, but then what if Harry forgot about him? That was stupid of course, as Harry had never even known him before now, so there wasn't anything to forget. He couldn't have picked a better person for Harry to start looking at as a father but his best friend, but it should have been him.

Lily seemed to understand perfectly though, nodding along and saying, "I know dear, it's the same thing I've been thinking since Harry met Molly. The way she takes care of him, I truly wouldn't be surprised if he grows up thinking of her as his mother, she's the only comparison he's ever had and she treats him as such whenever he's around. I couldn't be happier he's found that, but it doesn't make it fair that it wasn't us."

James buried his face in his wife's hair, the guilt at his brief spike of anger and jealousy at Sirius now combined with the happy peace he had knowing his son would be taken care of leaving him so emotionally drained he was almost happy he'd be spending the night as an animal, it was certainly easier to cope with these things in another body.

[dearlinong]

by your side ; wang ziyi

[hi ! is it okay if i request a scenario where wang ziyi is a mentor for a show you are in and its the final stage and you narrowly miss debuting with the rest of the group. he comforts you but everyone knows you both have a crush on each other? mentor au i guess,,, from a mentor or a lover?? im not sure where i was going with this, sorry if its a bit weird... thank you so much !!]

(a/n: girl holy shit i forgot that i had this in my draft and didn’t finish it wtf. i literally forgot how to do this ;-;. so.. uhm... I MISS YOU GUYS LIKE SO MUCH!! hope you guys are staying safe and staying inside your homes. i’m just clearing off all my requests and once i’m done i can continue making requests again :>. so yeah, pls tell me how guys have been doing in my ask box! so there hope you enjoy this one <3)

genre: angst plus floof

requested: YUP!! omg 2 years in the making kjnKJNAJKDNSKAJDN and sorry if it was all over the place :<

you were currently competing in the 2nd season of idol producer

and you were one of the top competitors

you’ve ben voted as top 1 for multiple times now

and not only was it because of your talent

but you think that it was also because of your friendship with ziyi (which is is bad guys lol vote contestants bc of their talent okay)

yes, you’re friends with the very famous wang ziyi

who was also one of the rap mentors in the said show

actually you two go way back

you two have been friends even before he got into simply joy music

you two were trainees for a company called faded ent

and you two were supposed to debut as a co-ed group

so you two would practice all day and all night just to perfect the dances, singing and rap you had to do

and even after those long and tiring practices you two still had time to hang out with each other

you gotta admit, those were the times that you started developing a crush on him

so when the day he told you that he was leaving the company it was basically your own personal apocalypse

not only did you lose ziyi

but you lost your chance to debut which was on the tip of your fingers at that time

so you tried your luck this time by asking your company to let you join the new season of idol producer

and to your surprise you were doing better than what you expected

as the weeks go by, you and ziyi have been catching up on each other’s lives

but only when you and him have overlapping free time which is a 5 minute break once every week, so that’s not a lot of time

and because of your closeness with him, people have been saying that he has this massive crush on you, which you totally ignored and didn’t believe

and if they were true you’d still ignore it because you were here to compete and debut, not to find love

it was currently the last week in idol producer

while all of the other trainees were fast asleep

you in particular could not sleep for some unknown reason

and what better way to tire yourself than to practice some more

so you got up and walked towards the practice rooms

you first checked if all the staffs were gone, and when they were all gone you entered the room and started practicing the dance routine for the upcoming final episode as you were still in need of some practice

20 minutes into your practicing and you hear some footsteps walking towards the practice rooms, specifically the practice room that you were in

behind the piano was a good place to hide, so you did

as the person entered the room you peeped your hear out so you could have a look at who it was

you were surprised to see that it was ziyi who entered

you were wondering why he was still in the dorms as all the mentors were supposed to be out with the other mentors

so you went out of your hiding spot

ziyi jumped in surprise as he saw you come out

“y/n? why are you here?” he asked 

“i was just practicing, but i’ll head out now, bye.” you said while rushing to head out of the room

but then he caught your wrist which made you stop

“hey, can’t you stay for a while. i really want to spend more time with you. please stay.” he said while smiling softly

you really couldn’t say ‘no’ to a guy like ziyi, so you agreed to stay with him

“so how’ve you been these past few weeks?”

“pretty good actually, but this week in particular was really draining for me and the other trainees.”

you two then eventually became comfortable with each other, like the good ol’ days

after a while you checked the clock to look at what time it was, it was almost 1 in the morning and you had to wake up early to teach the other trainees the dance for the final stage

“hey it’s getting late, better get going now.” you were about to stand up but then ziyi got your hands which stopped you from doing so

“thank you for staying with me y/n, i really miss spending time with you. i hope we can do this more often.” after saying that last word he was leaning in and getting closer to your face

he then pressed his lips to yours

you wanted to savor the moment, but a part of you says that what you’re doing is wrong

so you quickly parted with his lips and stood up

“i’m sorry ziyi, t-this just isn’t right. i have a future ahead of me, and so do you. i don’t want this to be the reason for us to fail in the future. goodbye.” after you bowed you left without even turning back

for the whole week you only thought about that moment

there were times when you couldn’t even sleep just because it was in your head

the day of the final episode has come and you’ve prepared for it since before you entered this show even

okay so this is the part where i transition from 2018 to 2020 bc im a dumb bitch and forgot to finish the au back in 2018

ok back 2 the fic

bc you already know that anything can happen during the span of these 3+ hours

the last time you checked you were still the reigning #1

and because of that you were really anxious about everything that’s gonna happen

before everything starts you guys practiced for the last time and got your last messages from the trainers

and while they were leaving ziyi handed you a small note which made all 20 trainees go BONKERS

“YIEE I KNEW THAT HE LIKED YOU!”

“I KNOW HE’S MY BIAS BUT WHAT THE HECK YOU TWO WOULD BE CUTE TOGETHER”

you became so flustered after all of them started teasing you

“YAH! Y’ALL STOP! if you guys don’t stop i won’t share my remaining facial cleanser!”

deadass everybody went silent JASNXANSDJ

and while everyone was leaving the hall you stayed behind so that you could read the note he gave you in private

it read

“i know what i did a few days ago really surprised you which made you say those words. but i know in my heart that what happened to us was right, but since you asked for it, fine i won’t bother you for now. just remember that i love you and i’m always supporting you, jiayou! with love, ziyi”

ff to the live show

the whole live show was a blur to you because you were too nervous for the final ranking

you were center for your team tho!

everyone AND I MEAN EVERYONE SCREAMED WHEN YOU WERE INTRODUCED AS CENTER

BC HELLO

YOU WERE PERFECT TO BE THE CENTER

ANYWAYS NOW ONTO THE MOMENT WE HAVE ALL BEEN DREADING

THE

FINAL

RANKING

DUN DUN DUUUUUUN

you saw some of the people you hoped to be in the final group got called and you couldn’t be happier

but sadly some of them weren’t

it’s now time to call on the prospected 1st and 2nd ranks

your anxiety levels are OFF THE CHARTS NOW as you haven’t been called yet

you were hoping to all the gods that you would turn out to be the 1st pick

or even 2nd place

but to everyones horror

your face wasn’t shown on the LED screen

which means you weren’t gonna be selected as the 1st or 2nd rank

you heard both people from the audience and from your fellow trainees a collective

“WHAT!?!?!?!?”

at this point you didn’t know what to do anymore

you felt numbness in your body

you can’t cry yet because there is still hope for the 9th place

and then it hit you

‘OH YEAH’

‘9TH PLACE’

so again with all the praying to every god thing

and then

BOOM

the 4 faces were shown on the LED screen

and luckily you were there

the PD then one by one started to announce the trainees on the screens ranks

for 12th place

it wasn’t you

for 11th place it wasn’t you either

this is it you were either in or out

you and the other trainee held hands just to relieve you both from the pressure

and then

the PD finally says the ranking

“the 9th pick is...”

“yuehua entertainment’s xi jiamo!”

that was it

all your hard work

gone

of course you were so happy for your fellow trainee

but you still have to think of yourself as well

you were then asked to give a final message

you were still in shock and didn’t know what to say yet

but you stood there and just said anything that came across your brain

“ohh, honestly i’m just so very thankful to everyone who supported me through this journey. and for every single trainee that has given me nothing but love i hope i can repay you guys some day. let’s all remember that this is not the end of our journey rather it is a stepping stone for us in order to succeed in the future. and to our dear mentors”

the audience and the trainees went wild

EVEN SOME OF THE OTHER MENTORS TOO

“i’m just very thankful that we had the opportunity to be guided by all of you, and we promise to always keep in mind everything you taught us. once again thank you for letting me stand on this stage. i will never forget this experience. thank you everyone” and then you bowed for a very long time

after the whole program all of the trainees went to the stage to congratulate the final group

but almost all of them went to you

the trainees started to flock your area and shower you with nothing but love and support

you even heard the crowd chant your name

which made you cry even more

“YAAAH! Y/N JIE I OVE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE REMEMBER THAT!”

“Y/N JIE I’M SORRY FOR TAKING YOUR SPOT!” jiamo said to you

so you had to tell her that its not her fault and she should think that way

if she thinks that way again you told her that you would be so disappointed

the staff now asked everyone to vacate the stage and go backstage

little did you know

ziyi was there waiting for you

you didn’t want to talk to him yet but the trainees insisted that you do

so they left for you two to have some privacy

once you two were alone there was nothing but silence

but he went in for a hug

which you really needed right now

a hug from one of the people that you love the most

while you two were hugging ziyi said something to you

“i know this is a really hard time for you and i just want you to know that i’ll always be by your side from now on. i’ve lost you the first time now i will never let you go”

YOU CRIED EVEN MORE BECAUSE OF THAT

you just wanted to be in his arms forever

and for now

you do stay in it

[greatbigfour]

The Lorax - 1

Onceler sat up in bed and stretched. Here he was, finally on his own! He picked a quaint little village to live in and hopefully start up his own business. Oh, he had such plans!! However, the only place he could find within his current means was a tiny cottage on the outskirts of town. But that could be seen as a blessing, he did, after all, want to invent a few things, and the nearby truffula trees were needed for many of these inventions. All in all, a pretty good situation. He glanced at his guitar, he would sing for money for now until he got his inventions underway, but he couldn’t wait to get started. But first things first, he needed to get an ax. He quickly got changed, quickly had some breakfast, grabbed his guitar, and stepped out. He took a deep breath of the forest air. Mm, it felt good to be alive! He took another deep breath before heading into town. He played a few hours before taking a break for lunch and getting right back into playing some more. He went back home around dusk, had dinner, and went to bed. This became his routine for several weeks before he decided to take one week off to work solely on inventions. He took an ax, went to the closest truffula tree, and cut it down. 

“Timber!” he called out as the tree fell. A few animals darted out from various hiding places in the path of the falling tree. Onceler began cutting down the tree into wood piles and stripped it of its feathery-like leaves. 

“What are you doing?” Onceler jumped and yelped at the sound of the voice. He looked around, but couldn’t seem to see anyone. 

“Uh, was that my imagination?” He scratched his head. 

“It most certainly was not,” said the voice, sternly. 

Onceler yelped. It sounded like it was closer. “But, but I can’t see you! Where are you?” He screamed when eight fairies practically flew into his face. 

“Does this help?” said the fairy in the lead, her hands on her hips She had blonde hair and was wearing blue, while each of the other fairies represented each of the colors of the rainbow. 

“Uh, uh, uh . . . FAIRIES!!” 

The eight fairies clamped their hands over their ears, though the lead fairy glared at Onceler. “Yes, we’re fairies, and we can hear you just fine! There’s no need to shout!” 

Onceler ran behind a tree. “Wh-what do you want with me?” 

The lead fairy placed her hands on her hips. “You just cut down a truffula tree, and I need to know why.” 

“U-um, well, I, uh, I like inventing things.” He shot her a sheepish grin. 

She sighed and pinched the end of her nose. “Of course you do.” She placed her hand back on her hip and looked at him intently. “And what, pray, are you inventing?” Onceler slowly explained what he was wanting to build as he slowly stepped closer to the fairies, though his main focus was on the thneed. It would be made from the truffula leaves and could be turned into anything the owner wanted, for the most part. 

“Everybody needs a thneed! Well, that’s what I’m thinking the slogan will be anyway,” Onceler said before shooting the eight fairies a sheepish grin. 

The red fairy groaned. “Really?” 

The lead fairy glanced at him. “Ruby, hush.” She turned back to the Onceler. “And how many of these . . . thneeds do you plan on making?” 

“As many as I can! Or, at least need. Everyone is going to want one.” 

“And how many trees is that going to take?” 

Onceler scratched his head. “Uh, I don’t, I don’t know.” He shrugged and pointed at the truffula leaves. “I haven’t even made one yet, so I couldn’t tell you.” 

Ruby smacked his forehead. “Seriously?” 

“Ruby, really,” said the blue fairy. “Let the Enchantress handle this.” 

“Then why do we have to be here?” asked Ruby. The other five glanced at  each other and rolled their eyes.

The Enchantress turned and looked at Ruby. “Because I asked you to come, it’s your job to back me up if trouble arises.” 

Ruby crossed his arms. “I know that, but do we have to stay? He’s obviously just a weirdo.” 

“Hey!” 

The Enchantress chuckled. “Alright, Ruby, you may leave. And anyone else who wishes to leave may leave as well.” 

“Thank you Enchantress,” said Ruby with a bow and a sigh. He immediately took off. 

The blue fairy placed her hand on the Enchantress’s shoulder. “I shall speak to Ruby, your majesty.” 

“Thank you Azura,” said the Enchantress with a smile. Azura smiled and curtsied before taking off. One by one, the other fairies bowed or curtsied and flew away, leaving only the green fairy, the Enchantress, and Onceler. “You’re not leaving, Emerald?” 

“My goodness, no, your majesty! I want to find out more about this . . . thneed, is it?” 

Onceler nodded. “Yes, a thneed.” He tapped his fingers against each other. “Um, may I make the first thneeds for the both of you?” 

The Enchantress held up a finger. “Provided that you take the seeds from this truffula tree you fell and plant them. And for any others should your business thrive.” 

Onceler gave her a salute. “Yes ma’am.” He grinned. “And it definitely will! The thneed can be used for so many things! Need a fashionable purse for the ball? The thneed’s your thing! Or a hat for a day in town. The thneed’s got you covered!”

Emerald chuckled. “That’s good!” 

The Enchantress nodded. “That is very good. But remember, for every one you cut down, you must plant three more. That way, it keeps the balance. The truffula trees can only be found here, and we were assigned to watch over them by the Lorax.” 

Onceler’s eyes widened as he gasped. “The Lorax? The Lorax?” 

The Enchantress nodded. “That’s right. And so it would be a good idea to not get on the Lorax’s bad side.” 

Are you, are you kidding? The Lorax would pulverise me! There’s a reason why his home is on the sun!” 

The Enchantress chuckled. “You are absolutely right about that, Mr. Onceler. So, we have a deal?” She held out her hand. 

Onceler took it gently, not wanting to squash her tiny hand in his big one. “We have a deal.” 

“Good. And now that you have cut down a tree, you must use every bit of it.” 

Onceler saluted her again. “Yes ma’am!” 

“And, I hope you don’t mind if I or any other fairies come every now and then to check up on you.” 

Onceler pressed his finger to his chin. “Well, I guess I can understand.” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again.” A slight blush came to his cheeks as he glanced specifically at Emerald. 

Emerald chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t mind staying here a little bit longer to watch you make this thneed.” She turned to the Enchantress. “Is that alright?” 

The Enchantress smiled as she placed a hand on Emerald’s shoulder. “I have no problem with it whatsoever, provided that you don’t leave your post for too long.” 

Emerald nodded. “I promise.” 

“Very well. Then I shall take my leave, there are other matters I must attend to. Goodbye Mr. Onceler. I will see you soon, Emerald.” 

“Goodbye Enchantress!” chorused Emerald and Onceler with a wave. The Enchantress waved back before disappearing into the forest. 

“Well, Miss Emerald, may I interest you in some pancakes while I work on the thneed?” 

Emerald clasped her hands. “Ooh, pancakes sound yummy! Do you have any honey?” 

“I might have a bit. We can find out.” Emerald followed Onceler into his house where she did get some pancakes covered in honey while Onceler went to work making the very first thneed and tried to figure out exactly what to do with the rest of the truffula tree. Another invention, perhaps? Or firewood? But soon Onceler found that he could make two thneeds out of one truffula top, a regular human-sized one and a fairy-sized one. Emerald didn’t know quite what to do with her thneed, so she left it at Onceler’s for the time being, at least, until she could figure out what she would use it for.

[tslasvegas]

Episode 4: “I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty.” - Keegan

Dan and JAKE! A WORD IN MY OFFICE PLEASE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS.

Wow! Today was A Day to say the least. I feel like boo boo the fool with how things went down today, but hopefully, I can recover from that now that there’s a new tribe. I’m excited to get to know new people, but sad to see my old alliances have to come to an end. I guess we’ll see what happens

Finally a swap and golly 5 OG Palazzo! I really hope this works in our favor. Kinda nervous for Joey and Stephanie tho because now they are in the minority of their tribe. I do hope they’ll find a way to survive till merge

LMFAO IM... watching the tribal council for the other tribe and I'm SORRY??? Who the fuck is Jake S he is the most condescending man I've ever seen in my entire life YIKES. Anyways this swap is nice.. I think I've got a good group, I really hope we win the next few immunities because I 1) really dont want to see Rachael on this tribe and 2) i want to try and rebuild my um. tattered relationships. I did the best I could in the challenge for tonight, I'll try to come back tomorrow a little more renewed cus I'm kinda wiped out from today's events. Now that my tribal council cherry has been popped for this Org its time to go crazy woop

So good not to check Luxor anymore! 

Well last tribal went fine, I got to see what was in the Prize Vault which is awesome; now I have a better idea of the twist. Big problem though- Our swap put me in the minority. I was running Luxor and had a core 4, now they have 5 OG Pink so they can pluck us off, one at a time. I went from drivers seat to getting driven over. We need to win the challenge, so I'm gonna go ham in winterbells and hope to pull it out.

We swapped! I think I made a confessional already, but honestly I don't remember. I gave Livingston some of my chips so he can go visit the vault after the immunity challenge. We'll see what is in there and for how much, and maybe snatch up some real nice items to help us out. I've also got Andrew on my side, which is great and he's apparently quite tight with Pat, which is fantastic. Mo is a pretty decent dude and I've been talking with Jake a lot today. Things are going alright. I just hope we can win this challenge. 

Phew, while the swap was not ideal. I was really liking my tribe, we were kind of quiet but individually everyone was great and we also kicked butt at challenges! Anyway, the swap with numbers wise not great, but I know Xavi from a previous game and we have a solid relationship, I hope he and John and Joey and myself can build a solid squad to make it to the merge. The challenge was rough tbh, I am not great at video games, but I think I did ok... Jaiden got like 20 trillion points on a game so really I have no idea how I did. Hoping for the best!

I am losing my mind in my personal life so I am sorry that I have been mia. I appreciate the patience from the hosts and my tribe. It makes me still want to play even though I've been kinda invisible. I'm aware of that. I'll fix it. I promise. Otherwise, its been pretty good as a tribe so far. Andrew, Pat, and NIk and i are all really close from other games, so we're good and Andrew and Pat and I are together, which is just really unfair if you ask me. I can't wait to start scheming!

Uhhhhhh.................................... anyways........ yall hear somethin? Oh I hear something. It's the sound of Joey literally blowing himself up to me hardcore!!!! The narcissism and arrogance really jumped out on this one. So Joey had the idea of calling tonight to go over some stuff and honestly out of the 2 hours we spent, I think about 45-60 mins of it was rather nice and I do feel that I enjoy his presence, but omg... his desire for control is so noticeable and its kinda gross. Joey and I debriefed on what went down on Bellagio and I totally understand why there was the difference in us discussing tribe dynamics - I had to give up all my info while he kinda kept things more reserved. I want to assume this is because of the fact that I went to tribal and he hasn't until now. I won't judge him for that. However, after this he's kinda like dictating the fact that an OG Bellagio needs to go home. Ben is the easier person to throw under the bus since he didn't even bother to do the challenge/let us know what's up. Not a big fan of that, but aight. Then Joey starts suggesting we vote out Kailyn...?? Uh... not on my watch. I have to make it up to Kailyn at least a little bit so even though she's probably got a loaded gun pointed at my head rn, I want to defuse the situation rather than start throwing her out there as a potential target. Even if it isn't coming from me, I'm not here for that. The information that Joey did give up to me relates to the chips in the game. I've never paid much attention to the chips, but I guess it takes 10 to get into the vault and Joey's got between 11 and 15 (he changed his answer on the subject SEVERAL times). He says there are three idols worth 40 chips each, then a super idol worth I think 50 or 60 (can't remember). On top of that, there are nullifiers, vote advantages, and a legacy advantage, too. He seems fixated on the legacy advantage and really wants the chips to get it. Like.. ok do you but we NEED the super idol?? Does he not realize that thing has more power than anything else in the vault combined..? ANYWAYS. What really started to turn me off about Joey is that there was this sudden expectation that I'd be giving him all of my chips thus far. I don't care about them to begin with but knowing what I know now, it doesn't make sense for me to give him my stash just to fuel his hunt for... a measly legacy advantage... I put myself in a compromising position. I told him that once a host gets back to me on my exact total, I'd be willing to trade him my chips for I guess an allyship going forward. I mean that. I want to work with Joey at least through this vote, but I can't guarantee that it'll go much further than that. He is a very risky person for my game right now because if he's coming off this strong to everybody, it's only going to hurt me by association to stick with him longer than a vote or two. However, I'm going to try and divert the attention and just be like, maybe we need to use my five as a bartering piece for new allies at this point. I want to try and build meaningful partnerships right now, especially since that was the only reason I wanted to make it to the merge.. Rebuilding is crucial as well. Kailyn and possibly Nik/Rachael are not going to be fond of me once we all have "the talk" about last tribal. I put myself in an even more compromising position with them, but I'll find my way out of that mess. I think........ As far as this tribe goes, I think between Joey's WILD imagination/constant over-analyzing and the lack of direction this tribe has taken so far.. I'm doing okay. Nobody is really standing out besides Joey and I guess myself in a way, so if I keep him around it MIGHT even shrink my own target little by little - unless people find out we're together then FUK. 

......five seconds later

In terms of my other relationships right now, I love John Coffey but this is old news, I've been in love with this man since like 2016 and it's fine - totally fine - just fangirling a bit rn since I get to spend more time with him!! woohoo. Xavier and Stephanie are straight up non-entities which makes me SO scared of them especially since Stephanie's won an ORG before... how can someone be so irrelevant yet still win something? Hmm... Makes me think that she's secretly a ninja, you never even see her around. Nik has grown more and more quiet as the days go along and I wonder what's goin' on with that. Maybe they've decided since Biden won the election that moving to New Zealand is a bad idea? Lmfao. I dunno. Nik stresses me the hell out because I have no idea what they're thinking at any point in time even in the off-chance that we are talking. I think I might just have a personality they don't mesh with because I noticed on call forever ago that none of my jokes were particularly landing but Nik had a lot to say and a LOT to joke about there... rip. If it's a personality conflict - go off, I guess. I'll try on a couple different hats w this person to try and see if I can get things to go better than they have been. Kailyn.. like I said before, pretty sure she's after me but I am really trying to sell it to her that I like her a lot, because I do. I literally compare her to my best friend irl because they have very similar attributes and I consider Kailyn kinda messy but fun and quirky like my BFF so I hope that Kailyn did truly appreciate me making that comparison. Ben's inability to do this challenge is going to be his undoing. I think the only acceptable move is to vote him off this time because I HAVE to prove to Kailyn that I can stay the course, and I also need to whittle down Bellagio numbers to prevent people from targeting us and having everything go to shit that way. Let Joey control this, please dear god. Don't let me get blood on my hands. Let Rachael integrate herself well on this tribe. Let someone else blow themselves up in the process. Just not me plz and thanks. There is no fear in my soul tonight. Joey might be a fucking crackhead but so am I. I'm breaking down walls that I didn't think existed but Joey basically told me tonight that he thought I was confrontational, rude, chaotic, and all these other things but was impressed at how calm, optimistic, and outgoing I was. Love to hear it. He might think he overestimated me but he was right about the initial impressions... too bad he won't be around long enough to see that side of me :~) 

FIRSTLY, DeNara was robbed. Okay so I already wrote this a while ago in my host chat about how the fact jake and dan are praying for my downfall because after the swap i am the only og bellagio on a tribe with 5 palazzo and 2 luxor. so after I slowly blinked at my screen for a bit I was like okay how do we survive this if I go to tribal. Because I’m under the impression tribes are gonna stick together especially going into merge but since Luxor is already down so many members it’s kinda Bellagio Vs. Palazzo. but then I was like okay wait I’m the only member of bellagio on this tribe after coming from a tribal so I’m the only one who can say what happened and I can create what narrative I want to help me get through the next couple rounds. Because if I was like oh blah blah I was in majority im so fucked then of course they’re gonna target me to get me out. But if I play the victim card and milk the fact that I voted in the minority acting like I hate my og tribe maybe they’ll think to use me as a pawn. To take down others moving forward. Listen if I have to be labeled a goat to move forward then BAA bitch.

.....five seconds later

Things are going good, because not only am no longer in danger this round but that means Rachael is going to the enemy tribe which if she came to our tribe that might’ve disrupted the narrative I had going of me being against og bellagio. Also DeNara should still be here, don’t think I didn’t clock the fact that Ben scored a 0. I also found out from Andrew that Rachael and Ben are apart of the same Tengaged group which explains why Rachael was so set on Ben staying but like, listen, if I end up in a game with someone I’m friends with, and they’re not active and helping the tribe. Good riddance.

What the. We lost yet again. I have lost everything since the start of the game. It's crazy. There are 4 from Bellagio, 2 Palazzo and 2 Luxor. 2+2 seems like an obvious plan, but it looks like it is falling apart already (read: Joey). Sucks to be across the world, so instead of scheming, I'll be sleeping.

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. is the same as I'm sorry Daddy, I've been very naughty. 

The swap did happen. Expected it. Glad we won this first challenge in this new tribe tho in worried for Stephanie and Joey

Vault Shenanigans - Holy shit I did not expect this to be as powerful as it is. I was preparing myself for some sort of payment based search system, but being able to straight up buy the items I want, but its also the same for other people. I had a misconception at how generous the wheel was so I'm probably behind some people with the amount of chips, but I could very well start scooping up some of the steal votes and just say "see ya" to the idols, although getting a super idol would be very wild, it still seems risky to hold out that long to get it, even though there's a great amount of power associated with it. The other issue with a super idol is that I think that its very likely that if I get into a position where I need to use it, that I lose a lot of respect with the jury if it does happen. The only benefit from actually having it would be that I no longer have to worry about someone else whipping it out, so it'd be less for me wanting it, but more for others not having it. As of now, I think my optimal play is to hold on to my chips until around ~40, and then buy both vote steals at once, OR go all out for the super if someone has already bought an idol by that point, because I would be operating under the assumption that the frontrunner is already out of the running. Tribe Swap Shenanigans - This is a hell of a tribe swap. 5-2-1 is always a great spot to be in, I am already good within the 5 that I have so I don't have to worry about anything there, it should be relatively smooth sailing as far as getting to the merge. Mo/Jake are alright so far, neither particularly speak too much. Kevin has not reached out at all, probably will try to talk to him tonight for general purposes, even if he seems like he'd be an easy one to get out first should we go to tribal the next time. But generally I really don't plan on losing so it's kind of a wash. I'll take the smooth sailing, easy path to merge. Premerge is never as relevant as merge is when it comes to FTC as long as you have something to show for yourself at the merge. I've got all game to make my presence known, and I plan on using the entirety of the game to do so.

I feel super anxious today because even though I had a great conversation and built a good connection to Joey, there hasn't been any talk about the vote quite yet. I mean obviously names have rolled out but nothing solid is out there still, I think I just need to let go of the urgency for a name to start being spread early on and just let things be. Stephanie and I have been chatting a bit here and there today so I feel more comfortable with her and hopefully she sees things from a similar perspective as everyone else - the Bellagio foursome needs to get broken up right now. As long as it's not my name of course!!!!! Plz vote Ben @everyone. Or Kailyn tbh save me a little bit of trouble now. Talking to Xavier is SO HARD LMAO. He doesn't immediately contribute information into a conversation and as bad as I wanna get rid of Ben, I almost..almost think going for Xavier is the smarter move, since Xavier doesn't seem too motivated to actually get to know ME and work with me. I'm selfish that way. Kailyn doesn't seem like she wants to do Ben which is a little frustrating but I totally get it, if Ben stays he's going to go after her hardcore but like she needs to actually pitch me an alternative lmfao. I don't wanna go bending over backwards just to appease her right now so if she doesn't gimme a name.. sorry sis but then I think it's gonna be Joey's call on this one :/

I am being very cautious now. The 4 of us (me, John, Joey and Steph) are going to vote together. Now Jaiden wants to vote Nik. And Kailyn wants to vote Ben. Why can't we just agree on one?! And it always has to go down to the wire. Stick together, people!

I think I am possibly leading the charge against Nik rn?? Joey told me he wanted Ben and then I told him I wanted Nik and now he wants Nik LOL take that Stephen 

Okay well I have no idea what's going to happen tonight, but I'm going into tribal not afraid of the vote I am probably going to have to make ... I think the best move is to just vote for Nik and be done with it, but it's going to cause a serious rift in a lot of my relationships if I do so. I've been super wishy-washy to a lot of people I think and right now it doesn't make sense to continuously do one thing when I mean another.. especially since there seems to be zero ground to move upon when it comes to getting the vote to turn from Nik to Ben. Nik doesn't even SEEM ACTIVE?? Why are we making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Ben can't just walk around deciding what's going on and I think Kailyn would prefer to keep Nik around rather than Ben but it's like... so push for Ben to be the target hun! She's feeding into someone else's move no matter what she does, it's either Ben's agenda or John's agenda. Pick a side, but pick the side I'm on, too. Why don't we just vote for Kailyn tbh. lmao

[theshy1sout]

Poppy’s extraordinary list

I dunno how to write the intro... I'm a kinda person who doesn't read it at all. I can only say that I make up the plot during the writing what's (I'm sure) really visible XD but Hey, it's only English homework and I love trolls, I love Zoey, I let this fanfic be cringing so let's go

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Chapter 2

- DJ! DJ! Wake up!

- Huh?

Poppy trembled her so hard without any results. Suki was known as really hard to wake up and it was not without the reason: she couldn't come back to reality by calling or shaking. She couldn't even open her eyes. She was just snoring as she was snoring before Poppy went into her pod.

- Suki! I need your help! - Poppy didn't give up. - You know trolls better than me, cause of these parties you did every day! I need information! WAKE UP!

- Poppy... - Suki snored unawares. - Gimme a sec... I... Got... A nap...

- You're napping for hours! - Poppy said. - Please, I need your help now!

- Why is that so urgent? - Suki opened her eyes trying to sit on her own.

Poppy stopped. Why was it so urgent? She didn't know. She knew there were lots of Trolls needing her help. And she knew she really needed to do something, anything! Anything but thinking or feeling...

- Please... - Poppy put her hands together as if she was praying.

Suki finally sat straight on the couch and looked at Poppy clicking her tongue twice.

- What do you need? - She asked with a more strong voice.

- Do you know something about the gray troll in our Village? - Poppy asked.

DJ was thinking for a while, frowning and clicking her tongue.

- You mean Branch?

- Yes, this one's sitting on the branch above the Village - Poppy nodded excitedly.

- No no no, Poppy, his name is literally Branch - She said, stressing the last word.

- Oh... - Poppy was surprised.

- Is it that weird? Your name is literally Poppy!

- No, I mean... Did Trolls name him Branch because of his sitting on the branch the whole day and watching the Village? - Poppy asked.

- What? No... No one saw him on the branch above the Village. You did?

- Yes, and...

- And you think what? Why did your parents name you ‘Poppy’? Because your hair is poppy or you're the princess of pop trolls and they thought "Oh, Let's name her Poppy! She will be Poppy Queen of Pop! Poppy the Pop troll! It's really funny!" or maybe because you popped out your Mother 's hair and they were like "Oh, she just popped out from the hair, let's name her...

- Okay, okay, I understand, please stop - Poppy was laughing so much. - So his name is Branch. Just Branch. Only Branch. Without any reason.

- Yea, you Sherlock - Suki yawned, rubbing her eyes.

- So... Do you know anything else about him? - Poppy asked.

- Let me see - Suki looked, still quite sleepy, on the floor. - He's really mean, always angry, hates parties, hates everything, talks with no one, lives alone in the Forest, why are you asking? - She said it really fast, all in one breath.

- Well, he's gray and I'm the Queen so...

- But you have a boyfriend, girl! - Suki interrupted her.

- What? What?? Suki! You're really still sleeping right now!

- And what are we talking about? - DJ said pretending to be much more asleep than she actually was. Poppy laughed.

- Branch. How could I help him?

- With what? - Suki said confusedly.

- Returning his happiness of course! - Poppy smiled widely.

Suki smiled widely too but for other reasons.

- You're kidding me...

- No, I’m not! - Poppy said enthusiastically. - If I want to be a good Queen I must be able to make every single troll happy! And also everyone deserves to be happy, am I right?

- I dunno - Suki said without any enthusiasm, looking mindlessly at the floor. - You didn't even know about Branch existing, did you?

- But I changed it! And now I want to change everything! There are many more trolls needing help than I thought - Poppy said, walking to the window and looking through it. - I want to help them all. I want to make them feel happy.

She heard that Suki groaned out and fell on the couch. Poppy still looked through the window at the walking trolls. There were many of them! Maybe Suki was right, Branch would be too much at the beginning. There were so many others who needed her help, that she couldn't decide where she needed to start.

And then she heard the music. She turned around, but the only thing she could see was DJ's feet sticking out from the couch.

And then DJ sang:

Yo listen up here's a story About a little girl that lives in a blue world

Poppy came back to the couch to see DJ 's face. It was still weird for her but now she knew that only she could see and hear what was just happening. She sat in front of the couch and listened up.

And all day and all night and everything she sees is just blue Like her inside and outside Blue her house with a blue little window And a blue corvette And everything is blue for her And herself and everybody around 'Cause she ain't got nobody to listen

It was really surprising for Poppy. She always thought of her best friend as a chill person without any problems. She thought Suki could have her small problems and there was nothing more than that. Only happy, chilling Suki enjoying every single party that she hosted.

But Poppy was wrong. Suki wasn't that happy.

I'm blue da ba dee da ba daa...

Suki took a pillow and put it into her face, not stopping singing. This muffled "da ba dee da ba daa" sounded really pathetic. When she finished, she put the pillow back to its place and came back to her previous position, like she didn't move even a bit. Then she saw Poppy in front of her staring at her narrowly.

- What? - Suki asked, a bit confused.

- Is everything ok with you? - Poppy asked, pointing at her.

- Yea, I'm fine - Suki said with a blank face.

Poppy sighed, feeling really bad. Of course, there was something not ok with Suki, but if she hid it, Poppy couldn't help her. And it also hurt that her best friend hid something from her like she didn't trust her that much. Poppy wanted to help the whole Village and she even couldn't help her best friend! It was overwhelming.

- I'm sure you're not - Poppy pressed on her.

Suki twisted her lips. But didn't say anything.

- Suki, I am your best friend - Poppy said raising her arms widely. - You can tell me everything.

- I Just... Dunno... - She mumbled. - We don't spend that much time since you... started going out with Creek.

Poppy melted.

- I've even noticed that you spend time only with me out of all the Snack Pack - Suki gulped and looked at Poppy kinda worried if she was already upset or not.

- You know there are many bad things in this world and you always try to pretend that everything is ok - Suki continued, sitting up on the couch. - I feel like you hide more from me than I do from you. And it also feels like you hide those things also from yourself.

Poppy bit her lips. It wasn't true, was it? She just tried to be perfect Queen and make everyone happy. Was it bad?

And then she recalled her dad and felt tears in her eyes.

- No - She said, rubbing eyes and standing up. - No! I'm just trying to help you, ok?

Suki looked at her really sad.

- You didn't even listen to me.

- No, I listened!

- So what was I saying?

- About... About... - Poppy was shattered. - About me being bad Queen.

Suki rubbed her eyebrows.

- I didn't say that.

- Yes, you did!

- Ok, even if I did, I didn't mean it! - Suki was calm before, now she couldn't hold her tongue - Please, stop behaving like a child and escaping from your problems! Just listen to me!

Poppy couldn't stand it anymore. It was too much for one day. Too much, really too much... She started shaking her head.

- No - She said. - I've got enough to listen today!

And there she was. Running from Suki's pod through the Forest. Again.

It was really late evening so this time the woods were really dark and grim. Also, she didn't think about not getting lost in the Forest this time so she was of course lost after a few minutes. She didn't let the tears go down so she ran with a blurry view, almost gropingly. When she stopped, she found herself panting and exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

- You got this - she said to herself. - You are strong and you are brave. You can be a good person, you can be a good Queen...

She closed her eyes and frowned, whispering.

- But you can't be a good friend and you can't be a good daughter.

She felt tear swam down through her cheek. But before she could think more, she heard singing:

When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?

- Oh no - She whispered. She forced herself to run again. Running as fast as she could. Running towards the singing.

When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?

She felt her legs hurt, but she couldn't give up. She couldn't disappoint anybody else.

When you're falling in a forest and there's nobody around Do you ever really crash, or even make a sound?

She was almost there. She heard his voice so clearly. Suddenly she popped out from the leaves and stood a few meters away from Branch.

It was really unexpected. For him and for her.

Firstly, closely he looked different than she had imagined him. She thought for some reason he would be dirty, rusty, ugly, hunched, his hair is a mess... You know, just awful and wild. Like a troll who lived in the Forest for years and hated trolls so much. But he was... He was handsome. His black hair wasn't in a mess (there was also something galvanizing with them). His leaves hand-made vest looked really good, especially on him. And his eyes. His blue eyes were unexpectedly appealing.

- What are you doing here - Branch said toughly like it wasn't a question. She noticed that he also had a really pleasant voice, even if he was mean. And then she also noticed a rope that he was holding in his left hand.

It was the only thing that looked exactly as she expected but she wasn't happy with that.

- I guess... - She started shyly. - The same as what you do. Escape from the problems.

He dwined. His 'I hate you, at first sight, stranger' face melted a bit. Just a bit. They stood like that, looking at each other like the time had stopped. Then she felt a bit ashamed, so started rubbing her neck.

- Wanna walk a bit? - Poppy asked shyly.

- I don't want to go to the Village and meet happy-ever-after trolls - Branch murmured.

- Me neither.

He gave her a surprised glance and then looked discreetly on the rope, squeezing it.

- Fine - He added, then hid one hand into a pants pocket and started walking onward without explaining. Poppy just joined to his side but not so close. They were the strangest strangers in her whole life and it felt so dumb and awkward. But she also felt some kind of understanding connection between them, like they had the same sort of problem.

But she was sure they didn't.

- So... I've heard you live here in the woods... - She tried to start a little talk. - How is that?

- I dunno, dark, lonely, dangerous, boring... - Branch said, not looking at her. - Maybe you didn’t even know those words before.

- I knew those words... - She said, but then she added sadly. - I thought I knew...

He looked at her this time. He looked very surprised when she said something sadly.

- Why are you looking at me this way? - She asked, not sure if she was doing something wrong.

- Till now I thought I was the only sad troll... Ever - He said. - And I don't even know... You know who I am?

- Not at all - She answered. - I know your name is Branch and it's not because you like sitting on the branch above the Village and watching the trolls.

Corner of his mouth lifted a little up, making a tiny smile on his face, which surprised Poppy a lot. She didn't know he could do that. Did she amuse him? Thinking about it made her smile a bit.

- And... - She tried to continue. - Trolls thought that you're so mean and scary.

- And you?

- And I?

- You think that too?

- I dunno... I don't know you, I can't judge you but you seem to be really kind.

Branch lifted his eyebrow up.

- Seriously? - He said waggishly.

- Yes, you do!

He looked really amused by her. She didn't even notice when his smile became this wide. She forgot about her problems until he asked her:

- So... What was your problem?

- Hey! You didn't ask about my name! - She tried to stretch small talk a bit till they would start talking about their problems.

- Your name is Poppy - He said like it was obvious. - Poppy the Queen. Queen Poppy of the Pop trolls. Everyone knows you even if they don't want to.

- I wish they wanted - She said smiling widely and seeing as it made Branch a bit overwhelmed. He urgently came back to the topic.

- So... What's your problem? - He said. - I thought good Queens don't have any problems.

- I don't know if I am one - She said sadly.

- Why do you think so? - He worried. Just a bit.

She twisted her lips. And then groaned out slightly.

- I... I don't even... I can't even visit my dad in the hospital - Poppy forced herself to say that. - He's dying and I... I can't get it. Why him? Why now? Why do I feel so guilty?

She felt her lips wobbling, but she tried so hard not to cry in front of Branch.

- And my best friend... She said that I can't listen. She said I behaved like a child. And she said I was escaping from my problems and... And... And...

She felt tears in her eyes. She made a deep breath to calm herself.

- And she was right. I can't help anyone. Even myself.

- Well, you actually helped someone - Branch said.

Poppy frowned. She lifted up her eyes to see his face, trying to understand what he meant. But then she noticed his hands were empty... And there wasn't rope anywhere.

- And I think the only troll who can help you is your dad - He said with a blank face like he didn't know what expression he should show her.

She put her eyes down on the ground.

- I don't know if I already can...

- You have got time till the end of the world - He said shrugging his arms.

He was right. Her dad couldn't wait any longer for her. She should spend as much time with him as she could. Like... Right now.

And maybe he could be this one person in the world who could understand her hearing-thoughts problem. She looked at Branch so gratefully.

- Thank you - Poppy smiled at him. She wanted so hard to hug him but she knew it would be too much for him. They were still more strangers than friends.

- You're welcome - He crossed his arms on the chest, smiling back to her. It was still surprising how charming his smile was.

- Will we meet again? - She asked, hoping that he didn't disagree.

- Well... - He looked like he was thinking about something. Then he finally said: - But not in the Village.

- No - She smiled warmly. - Not in the Village.

They stood like that for a while until Branch folded his arms saying:

- You don't know the way back, do you?

Poppy giggled. He guessed exactly what she thought.

- No, I don't - She smirked.

Branch rolled his eyes and guided her to the Village.

* * *

It was harder than she'd expected. Or it was just a week full of unexpected things. She came back to the hospital almost in the middle of the night and found the room where her dad laid. She was walking a bit in front of the door - she couldn't go in. It was still too much for her. She hadn't let herself think or feel about it, so now she was filled only with that. She trembled. And then she heard her daddy's voice singing:

Hear my voice... as i'm calling out for you Hear my voice... there are things I wish you knew for even if my heart is strange and hard to understand I'll give all that I have for you I'll help you take a stand so hear my voice... as i'm calling out for you Hear my voice... there are things i wish you knew so hear my voice... Hear my voice.... Hear my voice...

It was really heartbreaking. She went into the room and then she saw him. King Peppy just laid on the hospital bed and looked sadly on the wall. She went towards him and called him out with tears in her eyes. He beamed as he saw her. She jumped to his bed and hugged him so tight.

They cried like they hadn't seen each other for years.

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DJ Suki - I’m Blue

Branch - Waving through a window

King Peppy - Hear my voice

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[nevergiveupneverrun]

Bodyguard - Chapter Fifty-One “Nobody but you”

Hello everybody, how are you? Here is chapter Fifty-one of my Story Bodyguard. I hope you will like this chapter.

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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- Can you drive a little faster, Sir?

Stretched in my seat, I count the seconds scrolling from the phone call.

This unexpected contact, this alarming call for help

- I do what I can, but as you can see the traffic is increasing, the taxi driver replies. Coming back to Seattle at this time is never easy but you are quite lucky, there are no traffic jams.

I nod at his remark, my mind is elsewhere. 

I would have given everything to teleport myself at this moment.

- Something serious, Sir?

The driver’s question resonates weakly in the middle of my negative and worrying thoughts.

- You were supposed to take a plane and you rushed to the hospital… I don’t want to be indiscreet…

The tone of his calm and compassionate voice mobilizes my attention: he seemed genuinely concerned about what was happening to me.

- I don’t know yet… a friend has just been admitted to the hospital…

I’m sure everything will be fine, he insists with conviction.

“Everything will be fine”, his sentence resounds in my head and I want to believe him with all my strength but another sentence repeats itself tirelessly with a sound of a weak and heartbreaking voice.

“ I need you…” has she whisper me.

And despite all my desire to remain positive, the concern was stronger than anything.

The car turns abruptly while the driver takes the exit… and leaves the highway than expected.

- I go straight out here, the traffic will intensify if we continue on the highway and I know a shortcut by this road which should bring us just from the adequate coast of Seattle to reach the hospital, he justifies as if he had read in my mind.

I nod my head trusting him completely and losing myself in the landscape that scrolls through the car window. 

But the reflections do not stop.

The silence reigns in the vehicle in complete contrast to the boiling that takes place in me.

Worry.

Anguish.

And this growing guilt…

The ride continues in a heavy sand destabilizing atmosphere where I am both in the moment and elsewhere, anticipating what awaits me when I arrive at my destination… and dreading what I will learn there.

A blue sign then captures my attention and I recognize a road sign announcing entry into Seattle.

We are only a few minutes away from the hospital: the tension and a touch of apprehension are intensifying in me.

- You go to a particular service so that I drop you at the right place? Suddenly asks the taxi driver. The hospital is big and you could waste time…

- Uh… yes, I go to the emergency room… in intensive care…

All right, I’ll leave you right in front of the entry in question then…

I can hear the engine roaring a little louder when the driver takes advantage of a clear street to gain speed and I do not take long to see the signs indicated the hospital revealing itself at the end of the road. So we drive at a fairly brisk pace until we see the massive and elegant silhouette o the Seattle Grace Hospital, with its remarkable gray slate dome.

The driver quickly reduces the pace when arriving around the building and taking the direction of the “Emergency” section.

We meet ambulances and a paramedics vehicle… and I realize a little more violently than I am going to enter a place where dramas are played every day… I was hoping and praying at the moment more than for one thing: that the outcome is different and less tragic in my case. 

The vehicle stops suddenly: I distinguish the entrance to the hospital with the word “Emergency” in red which stands out and freezes me a little more from the inside. 

- There we are, I hope I did it quickly enough, I saw that you were extremely upset during the whole ride.

- Thanks for everything, I think I couldn’t have done it faster than with you.

I take a look at the counter then give him the bills to pay for the ride. Far beyond what its housing displays. 

- And keep the change…

- Thank you very much and I hope everything will be fine for your friend…

- I also hope, I repeat, getting out of the vehicle while he imitates me. 

I take a deep breath and take the direction of the entrance to the hospital with a confident step.

But the driver’s voice interrupts me as he calls me. 

- Your baggage, Sir!

Completely obsessed with my thoughts and impatience, I literally forgot that I had a suitcase… because at the moment, I had to be in a place… to leave the United States.

I smile weakly at the driver and recover the suitcase which he hands me politely.

- Thank you… I whispered, a little confused.

- No problem, see you soon.

I offer him a last little sincere and forced smile under the circumstances and take over the direction of the glass doors of the hospital, with an assured and rapid step, the suitcase whistling behind me against the ground.

Sliding doors close behind me.

And it is another world that I enter: an immaculate white, with a lively activity but surprisingly silent and this smell so particular of hospitals… a smell that I hate to the highest point, flashes of the illness of my mother invited themselves for a few seconds.

I shake my head as if to silence these painful memories and observe the indictions that surround me.

- Can I help you?

I turn my head and discover a young nurse by my side who smiles shyly at me: I had to look more lost than I suspected so that someone would address me like that after a few steps inside the hospital.

- Uh…yes… I’m looking for the intensive care, a friend was admitted a few hours ago…

- It’s on the second floor, you can take the elevator to your left and ask at the counter, he says softly. On the other hand, you cannot enter with a suitcase, he informs me, looking down at my right hand which squeezes the handle of my baggage. Give it to me, I’ll leave it at the reception, you can collect it by leaving.

- Thank you… thank you so much, I answer a little disconcerted, while he actually grabs my suitcase.

I watch him go towards the reception he has designed and I remain motionless and circumspect for a few seconds: between the taxi driver and this young nurse, I was lucky to meet only people who were deeply nice and compassionate… but maybe that is what comes naturally to us when faced with the anxiety and pain of others.

.

I head towards the elevator, designated by the nurse, with an almost mechanical approach.

The metallic noise of the doors clenches my ears: I enter the confined and gray place.

My finger presses the command “second floor” and withdraws immediately as if I had just touched a hot surface.

My fingers tighten mechanically several times, and my left-hand ends up pulling on the sleeve of my leather jacket, the tension gaining me despite myself: I rise in the air and my heart beats a little stronger.

What was I going to learn?

What situation awaited me on the other side of the door? I tried to remain positive, my anxiety is sharp and destabilizing.

A strident bell rings and the door finally open and reveal a long corridor… a white corridor, marked by empty chairs or on which people are sitting, heads down.

The corridor ends with hinged doors, from which I can clearly see a sign “reserved for staff”.

I take a deep breath, take a shy first step and walk towards the floor counter.

.

- Good evening, Sir, can I help you?

A nurse welcomes me with a soft and calm voice.

- Good evening, yes… I… I come for a friend, I end up answering, the words suddenly escaping with difficulty.

- Was she admitted here?

- Yes, a few hours ago, after an accident…

The nurse gets up and retrieves files places behind her.

- All right, I will see if I have any information to give you. Can you give me the name of your friend?

I nod and get ready to inform the nurse when I hear a murmur behind me a few steps away… my first name faintly reaching my ears.

I turn around immediately and I have almost no time to distinguish the image that is emerging in front of me: a silhouette advances rapidly and darkens in my arms.

I remain as paralyzed for a few seconds, my indecisive hands, now in the air, while the heat of a body radiates against me and two arms embrace me firmly.

A smell suddenly tickles my nostrils and a strange feeling of well-being instantly wins me over: notes of vanilla and coconut that I had missed so much.

I suddenly breathe more freely, as if I regain the full capacity of my lungs.

My hands end up landing laying on the softness of her hair first, before stopping behind her back, at the bottom of her lower back.

A jolt wins her and I guess that silent tears take hold of her.

I don’t know what to say, her reaction worries me a little more.

I just bring my hands back and forth against her, to silence her sobs.

- I… thank you for coming, she ends up saying with difficulty, always against me. Meredith is unreachable…I… I didn’t know who to call others… than you…

Her confession hurts me.

She found herself alone in this situation, and I was her only support.

- You did well to call me, I’m glad you did… I answer softly.

I detach myself delicately from her and finally discover her fully in front of me.

And I find this famous blue look that haunted me so much these last days… but my heart is tightened by discerning her red eyes with fatigue and tears. 

- Come sit down… I offered, pointing to two chairs, available a few steps away.

I nod my thanks to the nurse who had just observed the scene and lead Amelia with one hand behind her back.

This gesture that I have been able to make so many times in the past… a gesture that I had resigned myself to never repeat again. But the heat against my hand makes me realize that life takes pleasure in constantly contradicting us.

We sit down and I giver her a few seconds to calm down and dry the tears that ran down her cheeks.

- Do you have news?

- No, not yet… I’ve been waiting for two hours, she admits, keeping her eyes on her hands in front of her. 

This information touches me deeply… she has been here alone for two hours, in this freezing and frightening environment… two hours when she must have felt abandoned and helpless…

Her image at this moment also appeals to me: I do not recognize the determined and strong young woman whom I had left a few days earlier. I have before me, a young woman disoriented, frightened as a little girl would be… and after not hesitating to find the comfort of my arms, she now avoids my gaze, almost already protecting herself behind a shell.

I notice a water fountain in front of us and get up to fill a glass which I hold out directly to Amelia, causing a connection in our eyes. 

She nods and I try to send her a soothing and comforting look… but she breaks our visual connection as suddenly as it is established. I sit down next to her again, and I notice, a little distraught, that her face drops and that she avoids my gaze again. 

- Do you want to tell me what happened? I end up asking after a few seconds, having given her time to take a sip.

- I got a call from the hospital about three hours ago. Informing me that April was on her way to the Seattle Grace.

Her voice is weak and I notice that her hands tightly squeeze the plastic cup, a clear proof of the tension that assails her.

- Did they call you directly? I asked surprised.

- Yes, April has no longer her parents… and no family at all anyway. We may never have told you, but we met in a center… and that mays be what united our strong ties after all these years, she says, the face rising slightly, but fixing herself straight in front of her as if she were elsewhere…

- What did they tell you? I continue.

- That she had had an accident… hit by a car… she describes with vibrations in her voice.

She finishes her glass of water with a long sip: I extend my hand to take her empty cup, but she bypasses my gesture and throws the cup herself in a track can present in front of her.

I observe her come back to sit down and the circumstances of the accident call me immediately, but I don’t express my suspicions directly so as not to disturb her more.

- They couldn’t tell me much, Amelia continues, her gaze turning to the swinging door “reserved for staff”. They just told me that April was unconscious, that she had no serious open wounds, simple scratches but that they were going to have to examine her… they said nothing more to me, but since I’m here, I see that people admitted here have rather very serious situations… and that does not really reassure me… she completes in a whisper.

- Couldn’t they tell you more here?

- Not really, they explained to me that she was currently being examined… that a doctor will come to explain everything to me… she confirms, her hands clenched on her thighs, her eyes now fixed on her.

- This hospital is one of the best in Seattle, she is in good hands… I say to give a touch of optimism and confidence, even if deep down, I am also quite worried. I accompany my gesture with a hand placed on her knee, but I perceive a tension under my fingers… and I immediately withdraw my hand so as not to rush her. Do you know more about the circumstances of the accident?

- April has been working on filming in Seattle for 15 days. Considering the time, she was probably leaving her hotel to go to the filming locations, she had told me that she had night scenes because we were initially supposed to meet for dinner at my house. But there were no witnesses during the accident… in any case, no one who did not come forward. And the driver didn’t stop… that asshole left her like that on the sidewalk, do you realize? She is indignant with a flash one force in her voice and finding my gaze for the first time since our exchange.

I cannot help thinking that this accident is not trivial… and doubt that it is the simple mischief of a driver.

- Have you had any unpleasant surprises in the past two days? No threats?

- No, nothing at all… you think He was the one who knocked April down? Amelia asks me. We haven’t heard from him for three weeks now, I think he’s tired, don’t you think? She asks, her eyes vague, lowered again her hands, as if she was asking the question above all to herself rather than to me.

However, I don’t answer her question: I did not wish to add additional fears when she is already upset. Her attitude also destabilizes me: she was there, close to me, and yet she seemed to me elsewhere, distant. She refused all my attempts to connect and comfort: she had installed an invisible but impenetrable barrier between us.

.

- Are you from Miss Kepner’s family?

A question arises to my left: a doctor in a white coat, a file in hand, faces us.

A neutral and calm look on the face: the traditional mask of any good doctor.

- Yes, indeed, Amelia answers without hesitation. Do you have news? Is she fine? Se goes on quickly.

- I am Doctor Bailey, I examined Miss Kepner. Will you follow me, please?

We nod and follow the doctor: I stay a reasonable distance behind Amelia, but I maintain low pressure in her back, wedging a hand in the hollow of her lower back.

The doctor leads us into an officer, motioning us to sit down.

Behind her, an illuminated panel on which is placed a series of x-rays.

- So doctor, tell us, everything’s fine? Amelia resumes without wasting time, once seated. 

- As you know, Miss keener was admitted here, unconscious. She was knocked over at high speed and her head hit the pavement heavily. However, nothing alarming, a small concussion that led us to immerse her in a slight artificial coma. But she will wake up in a few hours… we feared initially that the damage to the head would be more serious, but she is doing miraculously well. However, in-depth reviews have revealed something else…

The doctor pauses and gets up to turn to the x-ray series.

The tension goes up a notch in the room, the breaths become more difficult when we realize that a new major will be revealed to us.

My gaze captures a frantic movement of the leg of Amelia which moves mechanically, like an unconscious reaction to express her stress.

- Here you have the scanners we made.

She points a finger at us and I recognize a spine x-ray.

- We discovered this edema and this fracture on her twentieth vertebra. 

- Which means? Insists Amelia.

- We don’t yet know what it is, we will know that when Miss Kepner wakes up, following her reactions. But this pressure at this level of the spine is worrying at this point. There is a significant probability that motor functions will be impacted.

My breath is cut off for a tenth of a second while Amelia puts one of her hands to her chest under the impact of this announcement. 

We simultaneously understand what is here suggested by the doctor and the consequences that this accident may have had. 

- You… mean April can’t walk anymore? Painfully asks Amelia, expressing the context, understood by the doctor.

She remains silent for a few seconds then resumes in a voice that is still as soft and calm.

- Do not rush to hasty conclusions. We will know more quickly, but I have to explain the situation to you and to prepare for any eventuality.

- Is one of these possibilities that she could no longer walk? Resumes Amelia by formulating her question. 

- It’s a possibility, unfortunately, concedes the doctor. I’m sorry to tell you this bad news, but we will know very quickly what it is, and we will do our best according to the circumstances.

.

An impression of deja vu.

The same calm and patient tone to explain a situation that means that nothing will be the same again.

Information that gives this overwhelming feeling… that everything is falling down around you.

My eyes stay fixed on this x-ray which materializes this new reality: time seems to stop… until a trembling contact touches my fingers.

I lower my gaze and I discover Amelia’s hand, timidly placed against mine.

I perceive her emotion by the weak but regular tremors which seize her fingers.

Without hesitation, I turn my hand in hers and wrap our fingers tightly, to prevent her from being overwhelmed by this moment.

To transmit my strength to her.

.

Because I know that at this moment, she only has me.

.

She proves it to me right now, by seeking my presence and my contact, by breaking down this barrier that she had built around her since our reunion.

.

In my turn, I show her that she can count on me, that I am there, by her side.

Without a word.

But with a simple gesture: I pull lightly on our two hands and place them against the top of my chest, just under my chin and thus intensely connecting our eyes.

At the bottom of her reddened eyes, I perceive a spark that dazzles me: a flash of confidence… a silent call for help which is no longer unanswered. A glimmer of gratitude and relief when she can rest on me: we will be stronger… together.

                     –––––––––––––––––––––––

Thank you for reading. I’ll try to post a chapter as soon as I can. Have a great week 💛

[codylabs]

The Nomads: Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

And then, as the tribe crossed the last stretch of the perfect void before entering their new solar system, there came a time of inactivity.

Months passed, with nothing to interrupt their passing. Day blurred with night, rest followed sleep, fiction mixed with thought, food grew stale. Despite her earlier warning to Thilykto, lifespans both short and long were being thrown to the wind with abandon, and there was precious little any of them could do to spend them on anything, let alone spend them wisely. She longed sometimes to take Thilykto up on his offer of some great quest of vengeance, but even thoughts like those were getting hard to think.

These people could sleep for years, and they often did. Many of them were doing so now, and more were joining them. She could see it happen; one by one she would notice a man wandering aimlessly across the hull, when his movements would slow, as he made the fateful decision that he had nothing better to do. He would then check a few pipes and valves, pluck at some silk to ensure it would hold, then he would take a long, long look around at the stars, sometimes staring for hours, drinking all the distant flecks of light into his memory, so as to make his dreams pleasant. And then, with a brief farewell to his fellows that he phrased “See you on the day”, he would return to his own ship, curl up in a hammock of silk with the sun shining on his photosynthetic biopools, and none she had seen do so had ever moved again.

She understood what Keeleeticktick’s father had meant about 700 years seeming much too short. When it came down to it, an eon is an easy thing to waste.

Perhaps this was just the nomads’ way, their ordinary way, and the activity and life and laughter she’d been treated to so far was nothing but the lingering excitement of an alien’s arrival, the joyous echoes of a welcome break in monotony. Or perhaps her interruption hadn’t been welcome; perhaps they preferred the monotony, and the sleep, and were glad that life aboard the convoy was finally settling down to a flatline.

And she was left.

The one creature that felt naturally restless, the one person who had to move every night, the single one for whom such inactivity was a mental and medical detriment. She certainly didn’t like it, feeling herself growing fat and brittle and weak, counting rivets on her pod, remembering fondly of many things, longing in sleep to wake and in waking to sleep. She didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anything to do about it.

She counted the nights until she needed to clean her suit again, and then she took her time at it, and then was glad it was over and that she could go back to sleep.

Nothing happened.

Until one night, when one of the other nomads decided otherwise.

She awoke to the sound of a voice coming through her radio, a hushed and rhythmic vocalization just on the threshold of hearing, and it had already been talking for several hours by the time she awoke.

With a grunt of strain and exhaustion, she unstrapped herself from bed, pushed off a wall with one hand, and drifted over toward the pod’s window. She opened the shutters a peek to see who was talking.

It came from a man named Rickakticktacka, reclining in the crow’s nest of one of the nearer cargo ships, with a small book in his hands, and the eyes of many among the convoy turned to him.

“He the brave the bold, the bold who knew his purpose, his purpose so humble and so galant as to save the life of a friend, the purpose of the bold, he the bold, he led the chase…”

She had no context for the speech he was reading, and many of the words were unfamiliar to her, and the sentence and grammatical structure was completely dissimilar to the language she’d been learning so far. So despite her best attempts at listening, it all sounded like absolute gibberish.

“An underorbit, he thought, he prayed, though the spinning lines of the Galvito, the lines that many a man had met in crueler times, through the spinning and whirling and wolf-haunted lines of the Galvito he set his course, and prayed for his luck, would take him to where the witch would be…”

She turned up the volume in the radio, and listened harder. She’d taught herself one of their languages, hadn’t she? If only she could take this in bits and pieces, hear it more gradually, perhaps it might share some similarities, some common meanings between words.

“The witch he knew, he saw, saw before she slipped into the veil, saw before the haughty laugh she gave, saw that she was burning hard to prograde, her light a sick and greenish flame that pushed her ever higher…”

There was… Something about laughing? And… A burn, a thruster impulse? A greenish thruster? All being spoken in 3rd person…

As she sat and listened, it slowly became clear that he was telling a story. And as she listened a little longer, she came to understand the method of its telling.

It seems the natives had a second language besides the one she’d known, or at least another ‘mode’ for the language they had. This second mode was slower, denser, more methodical, more detailed, and more poetic. By the sound of it, sentences didn’t hop quickly from one topic to the next, they didn’t really get to the point, but as they ran on and on and lingered on nuance, they grew in depth of detail and feeling. They went back on themselves, they looped, they referenced backwards and forwards. This language lengthily elaborated the emotion behind single words, gave a snapshot into the thoughts of characters and even the thoughts of the speaker himself, to paint a story, and sing a story, instead of to tell it.

She couldn’t pretend to understand much of any of it, couldn’t honestly say that she caught more than every 4th word or so, but the words she did catch were pretty, and the language itself so rhythmic and sing-song, that she quickly gave up on trying to decipher the particulars, and let herself get lost in it, let it carry her away to someplace she didn’t recognize. She turned her radio volume up a little higher, wrapped her blanket around her, and closed her eyes.

The story seemed to be about… It was about a warrior. Or a prince, maybe? Somebody noble, yet stubborn and unthinking. He was in some kind of asteroid field, (probably the rings of a planet, since she kept hearing orbits being mentioned). Anyway, somebody the prince had loved had been taken from him, by some kind of monster. The monster was thrusting prograde, to push into a higher orbit, but the prince figured he might overtake it by building up speed in a lower orbit, and using… Using something down there to change his direction and sling back up. It was a trick he’d learned from his father.

The prince’s friends were chasing after him, but they knew they could never catch him or convince him to stop, so they kept pace close behind him, and tried to follow him through his maneuver so they could help him in his eventual fight.

And the prince was conflicted, because on the one hand, the monster was escaping with his loved one and the only way to catch it was this risky maneuver, but on the other hand, his friends would never let him go alone, and to take the risk himself would be to risk all of them as well… Meanwhile the monster was gaining distance, and one of his friends was slowly dying of some sickness even as he traveled alongside, and there was a voice in his head speaking to him and telling him to turn back.

The story took almost two hours to get where it was going, and when it got there, she didn’t really understand the climactic cliffhanger it reached. The monster was up close all of a sudden? And there was a flash of green light? A whole lot of words she didn’t understand, a brief musing on the folly of mortal men, and then the chapter ended.

She came away from the story as if from a deep sleep, and realized she’d enjoyed herself. She glanced out the window at Rickakticktacka, who was closing the book. “I need to take a rest.” He gestured to his antennae-nerves with a chuckle. “Haven’t read in quite a while. Exhausting.”

“You’re doing good!” Somebody else called over.

“Yeah, it’s a good story!” Another added.

“I’ve never heard this one before, it’s really cool!” Thilykto was down for anything.

“I enjoyed it.” She leaned closer to the window.

“Oh, you did, Missus Fikes?” He glanced in her direction. “Didn’t think you would understand it.”

“It’s the same language, really.” She shrugged. “Just… Just stretched out, I guess.”

“More like uncropped. That’s the full language, you know.” He chuckled. “Everybody used to speak like that, before they invented rockets, and guns, and emergencies, back before anybody was ever in a hurry… Nowadays, people just want to hear it and get it over with, so nothing’s ever said really properly unless it’s worth taking a long time to say. Like stories. And songs.”

“Quit going on about ‘the good old days’, Rickakticktacka.” Somebody chided. “That was before your grandpa was born.”

“Yeah, yeah, call me old fashioned, but ‘the good old days’ is where the best books come from.” He waved the book in his hand.

“I don’t mind.” She shrugged. “I mean. We’ve got all night.”

“That we do.” Rickakticktacka paused for a moment to rest his antenna, though he knew he would be reading more tonight, for he’d found a new fan.

“I’m sorry if you don’t understand the story, Missus Fikes.” Thilykto apologized to her. “It’s one of those crazy fiction stories, with adventure and magic and a witch, so you might not get it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of you use those words.” She laughed. “What’s a witch, first off? That was the evil kidnapping monster, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Feshkilaki, the sorceress from the center of black moon. A witch is just a woman that uses magic. And magic is… Wait, what’s magic? Like, uhhh, shooting fire? Or putting a curse on somebody so something bad happens to them? That’s why her thrusters were green… Or, uh, or using spirits for power or-”

“Oh, magic!” She laughed. “Oh I get it, it’s a fantasy book! That’s great! Yeah, we had fantasy books on Earth too! Yeah, uh… my dad used to read me Lord of the Rings when I was a kid. Great adventures. Pretend places, pretend people, even… Like pretend types of people too. Elves and dwarves and orcs and ents…”

“Oh yeah!” Thilykto perked up. “Yeah, the main character in this book is a pretend type too, called an Elkakik.” (The word she’d been translating as prince was actually more similar to ‘elf’) “They’re like normal people, but older and more dignified, and they have a close connection with a wise double in the spirit world, so they can’t ever die or fall in love until they complete their purpose.”

“Interesting.”

“You’re both a couple brain-vented nerds.” Somebody teased. “Hey Rickakticktacka, let’s have a true story next.”

“But true stories are boring!” Thilykto waved a tentacle dismissively, then looked up to her pod for support. “Right Missus Fikes?”

“Well.” Her gaze wandered across the convoy, taking in all the other lazy, lethargic travelers, who had taken up myth and fiction to escape from their own lives. And it seemed to her in that moment that anything at all would make for a better story than reality. “Yeah.” She agreed. “Yeah, pretend stuff is pretty fun.”

“Alright then. So… On with this one?” Rickakticktacka opened the book again.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

“Let’s go.”

“Oh, alright.”

“I wanna see how it ends.”

And without any further hesitation, he launched into the next chapter.

Perhaps it was these distant, alien feelings of adventure she’d absorbed from the story, perhaps it was out of curiosity or sheer restlessness, but as he read, she turned away from the window, climbed into her suit, and left the pod for a short stroll around the convoy.

It was the first time she’d done so in almost a week, and perhaps only the third time she’d done so in the past month. Her body had decayed to the point where even pushing herself off of surfaces and slowly climbing across the silk nets had grown wearying, so she took every excuse to not; maybe she had a mind for the safety of her fragile bones, maybe she was just lazy, or maybe she was trying to hide herself from her own reality too.

She found Keeleeticktick where he always was, out on the hull of his ship. She turned down the volume on her helmet’s radio.

“Hey Keelee, I’ve been wondering, what’s a woman?”

“WHAT?” He glanced at her sharply. “What in the void do you mean by that?”

“I’ve heard people using the word here and there, but never in context, and by this point I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Did you not have women on your planet?”

“I don’t KNOW! MAYBE! What’s it, some kind of monster? A species? Like what the heck?”

“Okay, okay, it’s… Oh dear… They’re not monsters, they’re sentient, they’re just people. Same exact species. It’s… It’s the other half of the species. The people who… You know. Make kids. Instead of working, they make the young ones and the silk.”

“Oh.” She realized what he meant. “Oh geez, yes. Yeah, we have women on Earth. I feel really silly now, like, that’s so obvious.”

“Ah. Heh. Yeah. Sorry about that. Probably heard it from Thilykto, huh? Kids his age tend to think about little else.”

“Yeah, it’s the same way with humans.” She shook her head. “In school, my brother… Oh, never mind… Yeah, all this time I figured you people didn’t have women. I thought you split, or budded or something. Didn’t know there was a difference between women and… What’s your word for the opposite of women?”

He told her the word for ‘man’, and it was one of the words she’d been translating as ‘people’. “Oh… Okay.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Strange topic to go asking about, I recognize.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes wandered across the convoy. “So which of you people are men, and which are women? I was peeking up your dresses for my first couple weeks before I gave up trying to guess.”

“Well, these are all men, of course.” He gestured inclusively. “I can’t think of when you would’ve ever seen our woman.”

“Wait, woman as in singular? There’s only one in the whole tribe?”

“Well, the whole tribe has a few. But yes, our convoy only has one. She lives in there.” He pointed to one particular ship, which carried nothing but a single enormous spherical cargo pod. “She might’ve come out once or twice since you arrived, but only briefly, and you’re a heavy sleeper.”

“Huh.” Her eyes strayed over the mysterious pod, wondering at what it must conceal. Besides for tanks and crates and enclosures for hammocks, none of the tribe’s other ships had any interiors to speak of, making this one unique. Perhaps there was something similar to a house or a human home within; perhaps all the hard, utilitarian engineering of the outside gave way to something more civilized on the inside, something fit for a lady. And as for the woman herself, her imagination went wild. Perhaps the nomad’s society was secretly built to some matriarchical structure like bees, with the few women leaders specialized for child-making or egg-laying and little else. She would be something regal, or beastly, or gravid, or beautiful. To think that this was the only other woman besides herself for thousands of miles around… And had been this entire time… “…Do you think I could meet her?” She had to ask.

“No!” He snapped before he had time to think.

“Woah, sorry, hey, I… Wait, why not?”

“You could hurt her, I don’t…! You…! It’s just…” He seemed to catch his own metaphorical tongue, and paused for a moment to think. “The thing is, Missus Fikes, that a tribe’s woman is a tribe’s woman… And though we have shared everything we have with you, and you know I trust you, we can’t-”

“Woah, cool it man, I was just curious! Wasn’t meaning to… To interfere with any traditions or with the family or anything, I just wanted to see what she looked like, yeah? I mean, I know I’m not a part of the tribe, but as an alien, and a friend, you have to understand how curious I am.”

“I understand… But curiosity can go too far. And you’re a very strong and rough man.”

“I’m a what?”

“Just…! Just don’t touch her, how about?”

“Well-WAIT OH HECK NO, I ain’t gonna touch her! Why would I touch her?”

His eyes narrowed. “Well… You know.”

Hers widened. “Geez man.”

His shifted away. “…Ah… Of course. Of course, yes. Why would you indeed?”

“Ten feet.” She indicated the distance between herself and him. “I won’t even get near her.”

“Hmm.” He nodded. “Very well then… I’ll mention it to the others. And I’ll put in a good word for you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Not even sort of. “Thanks… I guess.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The two men behaved with all the pomp and solemn seriousness of soldiers as they showed her to her destination. She’d never before seen any of the nomads acting so militaristic, but she didn’t think it was out of distrust or ill will toward her; it seems they perceived the stakes as merely being that high. In any case, they both carried a holstered tool that could have been a weapon, and came to a stop on either side of a circular hatch on the woman’s cargo vessel. One of them unlocked it. “She’s inside, and is expecting you. Don’t linger too long.” He warned her. “And don’t get any funny ideas. We’ll be ready to respond to any undue activity, and so will she.”

“Got it.”

The other handed her a heavy pack overflowing with scrap silk. “To keep her from panic, tell her you’re only here to deliver this. Pass it to her gently, and don’t throw it or make a sudden movement. And keep your distance.”

“Umm… Got it?”

The hatch opened in front of her. There were curtains on the other side.

“Hey, wait a minute, am I in any danger here, or-“

The hatch closed behind her. All radio signals from the convoy outside were instantly cut off, and she was alone.

She drifted past the curtains, and stopped.

The cargo pod had no interior walls, no doors, no furnishings of comfort. She’d been expecting something like a home or even a nest, but instead her eyes met a wide empty space, lit by dim and orangish light; the warm, comfortable color of the nomad’s first homeworld. The pod’s only furnishing was a large padded cradle, which held one of the convoy’s fishing vessels in the center.

The vehicle held so gingerly on display was nearly identical in size and shape to the others she’d seen around. The hull was taller than it was wide, with 8 main rearward thrusters in 4 clusters, supplied by 8 fuel tanks. Engineering sections were in the middle and on top, cannons protruded from near the middle, a mining talon was folded against the bottom, and to either side were the wing-like protrusions which were used during fishing to anchor the silk lines.

But much unlike the tribe’s other fishing vessels, this one was constructed entirely out of flesh.

Its thrusters and fuel tanks were structured similarly to those on the men, membranous as the wings of bats, now deflated and wrinkled and empty. Countless unclear organs floated like clouds beneath transparent skin, and a cultivated garden of benign tumors grew across the surface. The cannons were unloaded, and curled against the front of the fuselage. The mining talon was a ring of barbed tentacles surrounding a cluster of enormous beaks. And instead of the wings, there were six boney anchors of the same purpose, each crested with hundreds upon hundreds of spinnerets.

Its sensory organs would be perceptive enough to pinpoint asteroids and radio-emitting objects across interplanetary distances. Its spinnerets could be able to ensnare and engulf targets in hundreds of miles of unbreakable fiber. And the beaks were strong enough to crush up asteroids or chew through a spacecraft’s hull. And with such capabilities apparent, she realized she recognized this thing.

“A leviathan…” She barely dared to breathe.

The word which she’d been translated to mean ‘monster’, and had been equating to the ancient sea serpents of Earth, had actually meant nothing of the sort. Its proper translation was something closer to ‘pirate’, ‘savage’, ‘rogue’, or ‘loner’. A tribeless, wandering female, who had either rebelled or escaped or had been raised among the wicked. Sad and lonely souls, lawless and fiercely hungry.

So as little as she knew of such matters, and as similar as it looked to the beast which had widowed her, she realized that this was not a leviathan.

Above the cannons, in front of the brain, a fleshy fold eased open, and a pair of eyestalks slowly extended, their enormous lenses coming to bear. The largest of the eyes were the size of the mirror of the hubble telescope, but were entirely blind and clouded over. So it was only a score or so of smaller eyes which perceived the visitor, and focused in on her with a silent, unknowable expression.

“Uh! I! I-I-I came to bring you this!” In a moment she remembered the pack of silk, and pushed it lightly through the air toward the creature. “I. I-I just. J-just wanted to see you. I… I don’t mean to scare you.”

One of the barbed feeding tentacles raised in a slow arc to intercept the pack, and the hooks on the end were dexterous enough to untie the knot. One of the beaks reached inside and began to eat the silk.

For digestion.

For recycling.

To reuse the old protein and the nanofiber and secrete it back out again…

Her eyes wandered upwards, past the end of the boney anchors and the spinnerets, and she saw a great number of winches on the perimeter of the cargo pod, each one reeling slowly inward, drawing silken threads out of the creature. Storing it for use in industry, so the nomads could weave it into cables, nets, paper, and clothes.

And she conceived that the creature was constrained here; tied helplessly to the cradle by thin nets. It was never fed enough ice to fill its tanks and fire off its engines. Never permitted to hunt its own food or make use of its great size and strength. Never even allowed enough distance to make use of its great telescopic eyes, so that they became blind. It merely sat here, stagnant in its pod, its monstrous reef of biopools soaking up artificial sunlight and artificial planetshine, while machines continuously milked it of its silk.

But it wasn’t a farm animal.

Was it? It was a person.

It was a woman.

She opened her mouth to speak. A question formed on her lips, a horrified, disturbed, outraged question, but it didn’t escape, didn’t quite form itself into coherent words, couldn’t trim itself down to a single thought. The woman watched her passively, with its fewish working eyes, and waited for her to speak.

“…What’s your name?” She finally managed to ask, her voice a whisper. One of the first phrases she’d learned of the native’s language, now the only words she could think to say.

The massive emitter nerves along the woman’s flanks throbbed with gradual power, causing a weighty buzzing in the radio, and then the words that came forth were deep, and slow, and uncomfortably loud inside the shielded cargo pod. “My name.” The voice slowly and gently thundered. “Is Kinthalikal. And you, I know well, are Missus Fikes.”

“I…” She turned down the volume of her helmet; the voice was just too loud. “I am.”

“I’ve heard much about you, Missus Fikes…” The woman said. “An alien of many powers and many disabilities. Ever restless, yet often resting. Unnaturally strong, yet never seen outside your armor. Some say you’re here to spy us out for your own people, or to kill us while we sleep, or to do other savage things. Many speak poorly of you behind your back, but those who know you speak well of you.”

She nodded. “Hmm.” Was the only noise the came forth.

“But don’t worry about that in here.” The woman told her. “These walls are made for privacy… But as for me, I see beyond the suit. And behind the glass I see brown eyes, in a brown face; they belong to a gentle creature, from a gentle world. Is that you?”

“…It is.”

There was silence for a moment longer, while they stared at each other.

“You seem confused.” Kinthalikal observed.

“I am.”

“What do you see before you?”

“I don’t know what I see.” She blinked. “A woman? But I don’t know what that means all of a sudden.”

“Did the women on your world not resemble this?”

“Back on my world, the women looked the same as the men!” She burst. “They were the same kinds of people…! I don’t know what you are! What happened to you to make you so huge…? What…? Why do they have you here? Are you a criminal? An animal? What are those computers plugged into your eyeballs? What’s a leviathan?!? Like… GEEZ GIRL, are you okay? Are you in pain? What happened to you? How long have you been in here?”

“I am not an aberration!” Kinthalikal thundered.

“Then what are you??”

“I’m normal! I’m… I’m beautiful… And if you don’t like it, then you can just leave it.”

“Huh…? No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I… I-I just…” While she stuttered over herself, Kinthalikal’s silk anchors pulled in close, and her mining talon curled up beneath her. Her eyestalks retracted halfway in what could have been shame. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I didn’t mean to let all that out, I was just confused, I’m sorry.” She folded her gloves across her helmet over her mouth to try to take back the words. “You are normal, you…! Oh, I don’t know what beautiful is to the men, but I think you’re beautiful, and…! Ooooh, they told me not to touch you, but I just want to give you a hug, I’m so sorry.”

Something seemed to click in Kinthalikal’s mind, and she glanced at the visitor in sudden realization. “Missus Fikes… Are you a woman?”

“I… I am.” She admitted.

“…Ah.” The creature considered that for several long seconds, and it’s posture adjusted slowly into something more careful. “…I think I’m beginning to understand.”

“I… I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go spreading that around?” She shrugged. “I don’t know what they’d say…? And I do a man’s work, and I think they think I’m a man…”

“They do… I won’t tell.”

“Thanks.”

“…I understand your confusion, Missus Fikes: I see you know nothing of our people.”

“…No… I guess I don’t.”

“I’ve never had to explain before, so give me a moment.”

“Of course.”

The giantess sat perfectly still for many long minutes, thinking old thoughts of memories of stories and stories of memories, organizing them into a single narrative she could share. And when she spoke again, her voice carried some of the sing-song tone of the old story-language, though she kept her words as simple as she could.

“A woman is not an expansion.” She said. “She is not an aberration, not a stretching or a growth of the design of the species. And neither is she an alternative to the design. Rather, what you see before you is the species as she is, and as she was. This is the species as herself, developed, unmitigated, uncropped. The others that you’ve seen, the men, for the greatest length of history they were nothing. They were nothing but an occasional symbiote, a gross organ, a downtrodden and peripheral side-effect of the reproductive process, and the life of history was lived by women. Even nowadays you can see hints of the old order, reflected and over-simplified within their machines and their ships.”

“The fishing vessels are designed exactly like you.” She observed.

“Which is hardly a coincidence.” Kinthalikal agreed. “They are designed for the same purpose, to improve and replace. In old times women hunted and fished the rings of their world using the same methods and tactics. They drifted place to place at their leisure and whim, they wove nets to catch the great things, they carved homes in holes in icy rocks and filled their bellies with snow. And the fuel they got from splitting that ice they used in little calculated gusts of thrust, for slow and cautious journeys. They formed great tribes. They built mighty cities. They fought long wars.

“And the men. Men are born the size of infant children, and their bodies never grow.” She pointed one tentacle toward a long organ beneath her skin, one of her wombs, containing a fetus the full size of a nomad man. “In the old way, boys clung to their mothers and helped her with her work until they were mature enough to be men, and then she forced them into her cannons and fired them off, to find wives in other tribes. They would wander and fend for themselves for years until they found women who would accept them.

“But life is rare in the void, and resources scarce. So once they formed a union, formed a family, nature did a thing which I gather it doesn’t do for humans. To prevent wasting fuel on two separate sets of thrusters, the male would bite into the female, and the two would become one body. His beak would secrete an acid to dissolve the junction, their blood systems would link, and most of his organs would atrophy away. A family was a single creature.”

“That’s crazy.” She blinked. “So… The man just… Just dies?”

“No. He keeps his mind, and his limbs, and his soul, and his beak and throat metamorphosize into a long tether, so that he remains himself, only tied to her. He is a limb well-suited for removing parasites, trimming tumors, assisting in navigation, and in the use of tools. He is an ideal helper, driven always to improve efficiency and comfort and health. We females were too often content to drift passively, but men are ambitious and driven and hungry, it is they who push us toward accomplishment and purpose and toward our own betterment… And at some point in history, it was a man who invented the first artificial rocket motor.”

“Oh.”

“He invented it to ease his wife’s labor, to relieve strain on her old and failing hearts, to let her carry cargo and perform her work even in her old age, so that they would not perish in poverty. And she gave the design to her daughters, whose sons brought it to their wives, and a revolution of industry followed. And slowly, ever so slowly, as women became ever less ambitious and men became ever more relevant and inventive, things changed. Everything a woman could do, a man could then do with the right equipment. And since his mind was bent toward the efficient benefit of his woman, he would invariably choose the equipment, for equipment uses less fuel, entails less danger, works quickest, works longest. Eventually, birth control and genetic methods allowed them to limit female births, and thus to surround every woman in a caring, industrious tribe of men that would accomplish her every need, to make sure she would never need to hurt or fear again… Eventually, a woman’s only task was to produce silk and children… And now here we are, at the furthest end of history, and I am what you see before you.”

She nodded slowly, her mind heavy and her heart beating hard. Her eyes wandered across the woman nervously. “And… So… So you must have a man then? A mate, attached somewhere to your body? Where is he? Is he listening?”

“Men don’t do that anymore.” Kinthalikal pointed to a globular patch of thick skin above her wombs. It was covered in triangular scars the size and shape of a male’s beak, and each scar was surrounded by old, healed acid burns. “They get better genetic diversity from a single female by alternating mates, so that’s what they do… And at some point, they lost either the ability or the willingness to put aside their individuality long enough to enter into marriage. So whenever they try to attach themselves… They never end up sticking.”

“That looks like it really hurts…!” She winced.

“They give painkillers. I’m never even fully conscious.”

“WHAT? But that’s almost even worse! It…! BUT…!” She glanced around once more for any nearby men, even reached past the curtain to pull the latch on the door, and make sure it was securely sealed. Pulling on the latch hurt her weakened arm, and she cradled her elbow as she spun back around. “But how could you let this happen??” She demanded. Throughout the entire history lesson, she’d been waiting for this woman to make some complaint about the situation, voice her desire for freedom from her intense oppression. She’s been waiting for the woman’s tears, for a lament to the death of tradition and dignity, for a hatred for the men who wronged her, for a hope for an end to this wicked new order. Her own voice raised to a feverish pitch over the crime. “Don’t you see that all the men are using you as a whore?” She didn’t know the translation for the word, and hoped the meaning would come across in her tone alone. It did. “Don’t you see that they’re using you as a farm animal?” A drop of spit struck the inside of her visor. “They treat you like another of their machines! And not even a machine as dignified as the fishing vessels, not even as a thing close to your own talents, your own worth, but as a factory! A recycling dump! If females really are the center of the family, the heart and the face of the species, then the men are disgracing themselves as well as you! They broke you! They enslaved you! They hid you! They abused you! They who were supposed to serve you! To love you! T-they… K-Keeleeticktick has a son? He was a part of this?!? One of those scars is his? He seemed like a nice guy! How could this…! Why aren’t you mad? How can I help?!?” Her attitude was bullish and hasty and hot with anger, a passion born from a desire to make things better than they were. It was a very mannish attitude to have. “What can I do?!?”

Kinthalikal flinched beneath the visitor’s verbal onslaught, cowered backward in her restraints, found her eyestalks retracted, looking down through her transparent skin at her own insides, and seeing her status in life a little bit like how her visitor saw it, and it was not flattering. In her visitor’s words she could hear the untold story of a world where man and woman followed the same orbit, where people had the freedom to be free and marriage was willing… But more than that, she heard the story of a world of peace and plenty, where people had so little worry of predators and enemies and rival factions that they had no concern for efficiency, where deep and dark matters could take it for granted, where people concerned themselves with equality and happiness more than survival. Earth was a place where people did not even need to be nomads.

“Men aren’t evil.” She said.

Her visitor’s frown remained unbroken.

“Keeleeticktick is a good man. And a kind man… This I know from his reputation. And as for the rest, some are known as good, some as bad, but what do I know? For all I can tell, they’re all kind, at least to me.”

“Yeah, well they don’t seem kind to me.”

“How do they seem to you?”

“They—” Her words caught on her tongue, for really, with few exceptions, for her entire stay, they had treated her with nothing but kindness. “They’re lazy.” She claimed, as if grasping at straws. “And kind of gross…? And the way they treat you… I guess… I guess I just don’t understand you people at all.”

“Hmm.”

“…How do they seem to you?” She asked.

“I don’t envy them.” Kinthalikal told her. “They are creatures of action, but their fathers gave them an unforgiving and lazy portion in life, and they only know how to give their sons the same. All their days and nights they spend idly milling about, until there appears the slightest opportunity to exert themselves, to justify themselves, to prove themselves; when it comes, they will latch onto it. You have seen how quickly and proudly they spring into action when there is a survivor to save from disaster, or a monster to hunt, or an asteroid to capture. They long for trouble, and for purpose. Unfortunately for them, this means their purposes are so seldom their own, and they are prone to being sent on ridiculous quests… So it was in the olden days, when their mothers launched them off to find women to cling to. So it is now, when they undertake agonizing journeys of lifetimes to escape from cruel empires, and spheres of armor must conceal the objects of their worship…”

“Worship?” She scoffed. “They don’t ‘worship’ you.”

“Don’t they?” She rapped a tentacle against the wall of the pod. “Have you seen how jealously they guard me? They hid my loud voice from predators and scanners, they made me immune to bullets. And now look at the gentle colors, listen to the life support, can you feel the comfort? These things are made with loving care. You haven’t heard the sweet things they say when they visit me, haven’t heard the stories they tell, can’t see the worlds they gave me to explore in virtual reality behind my blind eyes. It really does equate to worship, the way they treat me. Worship, or queenship, or the guarding of a precious treasure. How long did it take them to even mention me? Their reverence is just that thorough. So who has it better in this arrangement? Certainly not they. So who is subjugated? …Maybe we both are, but not by each other, not entirely unequally, and certainly not by intention… So what if I’m trapped in here? In the end, I am safe here. And I am at peace. And that is more than could be said of most other places in the universe, and most other times in history.”

“But… But how could you consent to something as… As perverted and… And degrading and restricted and… And… You were supposed to be free! Freer than any creature had ever been! And… And you let this happen to you? Just let it? How could you consent to something as unnatural as this?”

“’Consent’…? You don’t need to consent to something for it to be the way that it is… And to imagine that I’m the one telling you that! From what I hear of your nature, Missus Fikes, you’ve consented to far worse than I. Was it your choice to float the void for the rest of your days? Or did somebody put you to it?”

She had to think about that for a minute. “We set out with the best of intentions.” She finally answered. “Something just… Happened along the way.”

“Same as the man who invented the rocket motor had the best of intentions.” She agreed. “As did the woman who first began organizing ships into convoys. As did the men who built the ion engines. As did my mother. As do these men… Something just happened along the way.”

It made sense.

“But… But it’s so… So messed up though.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“…I need time to think about this.” She stuttered. “This is a lot to take in.”

“I suppose it is… Come back to visit, then.” Kinthalikal requested. “…I think I would enjoy stories of your world.” And then she sat back in her restraints and returned to her original resting position, utterly unchanged from how she was a month previous, save for some strange and alien thoughts to fill her head.

Her visitor groped almost blindly along the wall and past the curtains, but before she turned the hatch to step back outside, she looked back over her shoulder. “…Kinthalikal…?”

“Yes?”

“The men… The men see me as an equal. Or something close to an equal. They see me as one of them… Is there anything you would have me say to them?”

Kinthalikal thought about it for a minute. “…No.” She finally answered. “No, nothing passes the mind.”

“…Don’t consent to more than you have to.” Her visitor told her. “Maybe some of it you have to… But never more than that… Please. For your sake.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Hmm.”

She twisted the hatch open, and pushed out through, back into the emptiness of space. The glare of the sun and the harshness of the black hurt her eyes after her time indoors. The freedom of the expanse was all around her, it pressed down on her, it opened before her, and as she made her way back home, she spoke not a word to the idle men she passed.

Finally she arrived back at her pod, which was tied as it always was to the side of one of the cargo ships. And tonight she looked at it as a man would look at it, with an eye for efficiency.

She saw clearly for the first time that the pod was small and hard and crudely engineered; an ugly, battered pill of a spacecraft, which appeared dense and abrupt next to the gracefully diffuse constructions of the natives. Its walls were thick enough to survive reentry or an ocean landing, its colors gaudy and brightly striped, its life support overbuilt and robust enough to recycle the wastes of more than 20 human souls, and it had seats and supplies for the same number.

She didn’t need this ungainly, massive prison of a pod.

She needed something else.

And so she crawled inside, unpacked her tools, and began a chore which would take her weeks.

“Missus Fikes, what are you doing?”

“Working. Got some things I’ve been meaning to do.”

“Can I help?”

“…No… No, this is something I need to do on my own.”

“Okay.”

“I might need you later though. Don’t go far.”

“Cool.”

It started with unbolted 19 of the seats, and most of the wall paneling, bringing them outside the airlock, and tying them all up to keep from floating away. Then she opened the inspection and repair manual, and began picking her way through the mechanisms within the walls, determining the purpose of each, assessing which were crucial and which were superfluous, answering mechanical and electrical questions she’d never before asked. This step of the process would not have been possible without Keeleeticktick’s help.

After several nights of research and work, they found a way to disconnect 2 of the pod’s 6 booster engines, one of the algae nutrient vats, and most of the air handling systems. She reset the computer to recognize their absence.

Eventually, her pod was nothing but a bare, naked metal cylinder, with a window at the front and complicated mechanisms on the back; only barely airtight. Wall insulation was the last thing she removed, and it was bitterly cold in her pod the last night she slept in there. Then, early the next morning, she began the longest, most treacherous spacewalk of her life.

She took an angle grinder, and she cut the pod in half. The two cylinders, front and back, drifted apart.

Then she cut the window off the front half, and welded it back on to the severed end of the back half, resulting in both a leftover half-length of hull, and a complete pod which was twice as ugly, but half as large. Generous application of resin patches around the joint made it airtight once again, and she cycled the airlock to make sure it still worked. It did.

Then, after reinstalling the insulation and life support, she took the seats and extra engines and all the nonessential parts she’d removed, tied them all together into a single bundle, crammed that bundle into the scrap half of the pod, and let the whole mass of junk out on the end of a tether. The other end of the tether she tied to the roof of the new pod, and then there were two masses, joined by a line. She fired up the engines, and they began to rotate each other.

Her feet touched the ground, and she had artificial gravity. But this time it wasn’t gravity that relied on Thilykto piloting a dingy on the other end, or on a loaned mass from elsewhere in the convoy. This time nobody else could lay claim to any part of it, it was made entirely of her own possessions, and she would never again have to spin it down. It was hers alone, and for good. A floor felt good beneath her feet.

She smiled.

The natives cheered.

“You did it, Missus Fikes!”

“You made your own ‘down’!”

“And you didn’t need our help!”

“We knew you could do it!”

It was only 5% Earth gravity inside, but she was still having trouble walking. She struggled over to her toolbox, retrieved a marker, and began to write an exercise regime on the wall. So many sit-ups, so many pushups, so many chin-ups, so long jogging in place, such-and-such stretches. The numbers she wrote down were large, audacious and ambitious, and she set a date for when she would spin up the gravity to 10%, and then 20%. And once she reached that, maybe she would make longer-range plans for 50%, even 100%.

And finally, at the conclusion of all her work, while the males were still cheering her resolve, she gazed out the window, across the convoy, and her eyes landed on Kinthalikal’s cargo pod.

“Here I consent.” She said.

[team-science-mega-nerds]

PART ONE HERE & This part is rated M & Play THIS song while you read

In the sanctuary, she can’t find the words. She returns the next night and searches for something to say. Something to offer that explains her discombobulated feelings. She comes up empty and empty isn’t how she wants to feel before she drives all the way to Alex Danvers’ house to find someway to name her need. 

It’s a mistake. 

She knows that from the moment she pulls up the driveway and sees four trucks and two cars already sitting there. Music emits from Alex’s house and just as she thinks about getting back into her car and leaving before anyone knows she’s there, Alex steps out of her house carrying a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. “Hey,” She lights up and approaches. Her legs aren’t as steady as they normally are and when she gets closer and into the warm porch light, Sam notices that Alex’s cheeks are tinted red like she’s been drinking. 

“Hi.” Sam can see a few people moving around and laughing in Alex’s living room. “I can go.”

“You can stay,” Alex offers. “Just a few friends over.” 

“Are you drunk?” Alex laughs and waves her hand around like that’s enough of an answer.

“Getting there.” Alex takes another few drags before stomping out her cigarette. “Come on, my friends like a pretty girl.” As they reach the door and Alex opens it to let Sam pass, she adds, “I do too.” 

“Shut up,” Sam mutters getting a playful laugh from Alex. 

Sam doesn’t expect to find a large group of people playing cards, drinking, and listening to music. These are people she’s never seen before. Sam isn’t used to that kind of unfamiliarity in such a small town. They welcome Sam with open arms. She declines to join in on a poker game and almost regrets it when she realizes that Alex isn’t playing either. “You like music?” 

“Everyone likes music.”

“I mean...not your chorus bullshit or whatever they force you to listen to at church. I mean music.” Alex’s smile is infectious in a way that it’s never been. This time Sam feels like she’s a part of the playfulness. Alex flips through a few LPs and places a vibrant red one on her record player. Music - crooning and wayward music - fills the room. 

Sam is in a trance. Caught up in Alex mouthing the words. A shot glass hits the table and cheers fill the room. There is glory here, even if it’s the tainted kind. Velvet gloves, you still a stunner. Alex’s eyes are on her. Without the protection of a little book filled with many words, Sam feels far too seen. 

Queen of the rodeo. You rode on in with nowhere else to go. 

Sam feels inexplicably warm. The windows are open, summer nights out here feel different than only a few miles away at her own house. One of the poker players stands, grabs Alex’s hands, and presses his body close to hers and they sway softly to the music. They sing the song together, like two old friends catching up after years away. It all comes back easily. 

Stary-eyed, a little younger. The night is long, your days are numbered.

Sam wishes she could be held like that. Not by anyone but Alex. She’d say as much if there weren’t so many people around. Still, Sam finds herself traveling to the coffee table. She grabs a glass and pours herself too much before going to down the shot. Alex grabs her arm before she can knock it back. Beyond this town lies a life much sadder. Babe, I know. Another evening to show.

“What’re you doing?” Alex’s words are slurred more now. Her grip is tight as she pulls Sam away from the crowd and into the hallway. All Sam can feel is Alex’s hand. All she can hear is the song. “You won’t find salvation in that bottle-.”

“You really need to shut up.” 

“I wish you’d make me.” Alex takes the glass out of Sam’s hand and downs the whiskey. “What’d you come out here for?” Alex takes a step back. With her back pressed against the wall, Alex looks like a photograph. Slightly disheveled and handsome enough to call home about. Sam stares and stares. I see you around, still around, still around. Steal the crown. “If you want me, I’m yours.” 

“You’re crazy.” 

“Okay.” 

“This isn’t a game. I’m supposed to be here to help you. To teach you-.”

“And that’s why you keep coming back? That’s why you left your bible here?” Alex crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t think I’m the lonely person here.” Alex touches Sam’s cheek, cradling her in a way that nearly softens Sam’s gaze. Queen of the rodeo. You rode on in with nowhere else to go. “I know you, remember? And I know everybody else in this house. If you want a place to be, then look around you.” 

You know the tune so the words don't matter. Beyond this town lies a life much sadder. “Don’t make me question my faith, Alex. You can ask a lot of me, but not that.” 

“That’s the last thing I want.” Alex looks down the hallway. The poker game is getting louder, nearly rising above the music. “You don’t have to play poker. You don’t have to drink. Just be yourself, okay.” 

“Okay.” Alex grabs her hands. They do little more than move a few inches left and right, Sam pressed against Alex’s body. She takes it all in, all of her. Her smell. Her warm breath. The way Alex smiles against her cheek. Babe, I know. Another evening to show. 

Queen of the rodeo. 

Sam practically sprints out of Alex’s house an hour later. She catches Alex looking at her with such a gentle desire that Sam panics. Sam is counting down the days till Ruby’s return now more than ever. 

The church offers her refuge as always. The conversations she finds there are hollow compared to what she had with Alex. But it’s something. “My neighbors' boy said he saw you driving around the Danvers’ place.” It’s an accusation if she’s ever heard one. In front of the entire women’s bible study no less. 

“She’s a friend,” Sam tells them. They all look on, equally scornful and distrusting. 

“Don’t get too friendly with the likes of her.” 

“I wish someone would tell me why everyone is so harsh on her. She’s been nothing but kind to me.” 

“She’s kind when she wants something. You’re a smart and beautiful woman, I think you can guess why she keeps you around.” Sam shuts up after that. There’s nothing she can say to rid this town of ts prejudice. All she can do is stay behind after bible study, fold her hands, and pray. 

It’s late. Too late to be out alone, even in a church. Sam resigns herself to go home soon. She could use a shower. Anything to wash away the guilt and fear that she constantly feels. It’s footsteps walking down the center aisle that brings Sam back to her present. She doesn’t know whether to smile or laugh when she sees Alex, but her approach is confident. Just enough to give Sam pause. “Fancy meeting you here,” Alex jokes as she slides into the pew beside Sam. “I hear this place has a pretty good sermon on a Sunday morning.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you.” Alex folds her arms in front of herself and closes her eyes. Sam stares. “I bet you’re wondering what I pray about.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I pray about love. I pray about finding it, losing it, and wanting to find it again.”  Alex keeps her hands folded. Her head is only slightly bowed. Just enough to mirror Sam. “That’s what life is, isn’t it?” 

“There’s something beautiful about the way you see the world.” 

“Don’t get lost in it.” Alex closes her eyes. “My beauty, I mean.” Praying with Alex turns out to be a revolutionary experience. Alex appears completely unafraid of her taboo presence in the church. The warmth of her body makes Sam resist the urge to move away. Alex smells of nothing but clean linen and sandalwood. “I haven’t seen you in a little bit.” 

“I know.”

“Was it something I did?”

“It’s…” Sam shakes her head, she still doesn’t know what she’s so afraid of admitting. 

“You left your bible again.”

“I can come get it tonight? If you’re not busy.” Alex stands and cracks her knuckles. She looks larger than life standing in the middle of this place. The bright lights - lights too bright for any church - reflect off the stained glass and illuminate Alex in a way that makes Sam terrified of what she might do when she goes to Alex’s house. 

Alex drives with pace and Sam isn’t used to these rural highways enough to follow quite as fast. But Alex lingers near her motorcycle when Sam finally arrives. “You drive like a grandma,” Alex says with a big grin. She pulls out a cigarette and that signals to Sam that it’s 9, which is far too late. “Go ahead in.” 

Sam wishes she could run around the house. Gather up every ounce of information she can find. Something to confirm what everyone in church had been saying. Stay away from her, she’s trouble. But all Sam manages to find is her bible, sitting at the kitchen table next to an ashtray and half-filled glass of water. 

The simple thought of Alex reading Sam’s bible - the one that sits on her nightstand - does something to her. She jolts when the front door opens and closes and Alex enters the kitchen in a waft of cigarette smoke and fresh air and it’s just as confusing and conflicting as Sam has been feeling recently. Alex leans against her counter - making jeans and a plain white shirt look like her own brand of armor. Sam isn’t ready to battle. “Will you read something for me?” Alex nods toward the bible. “Something beautiful. Songs of Solomon, maybe.” 

Sam reaches for her bible, throws it open to a random page in the middle of the chapter. She prepares to be watched and heard in a way that she can never expect of anyone else in her life. She reads and reads. She reads to create a storm big enough to drown them both out. “Let us rise early and go to the vineyards. Let us see whether the vine has budded and its blossoms have opened and whether the pomegranates have bloomed.” Her voice trembles. Alex is still exactly where she has been this whole time, but Sam can feel her. She can feel the change. “There I will give you my love.” Alex gently takes the bible out of Sam’s hands, closes it, and places it on the table. 

“Come here.” As she stands, Sam feels strong hands grab her hips and pull her close. She questions her reaction. The ease with which she gives in and kisses Alex’s lips and tastes smoke and yearning. Sam is lifted and her legs wrap around Alex’s hips. She thinks, with a sense of finality, that they’re going to Alex’s bedroom. When Sam feels her back touch the floor she feels her whole body respond with reverence. 

To be wanted in this way builds fire between them. 

When Alex moves to her neck, Sam resists the urge to just let it happen. That’s how she’d experienced pleasure before, a vessel for someone else’s lust and power. She grinds against Alex’s pant leg, her want and desire clear, as are the muffled sounds she makes against Alex’s mouth. “Can I touch you?” Sam nods her head, aware of the fact that Alex’s hands have been wandering and seeking permission to go further. “Sam?” Alex pulls back and looks her in the eyes. Sam feels flush and faint and she never wants to be apart from Alex ever again. “Can I touch you?” She asks again. 

“Yes, please.” Sam thinks that she should know what to expect. With the way things have grown so frenzied between them, she expects something fast. Something that leaves her craving more of Alex. But Alex is slow. Fingers moving in and out with something that Sam can only describe as languid. Sam notices that Alex is moving so slow because she’s watching her. Watching Sam’s lips part and eyes roll back and they rock against the kitchen floor. “Fuck.” 

“I could listen to you say that forever,” Alex whispers in her ear as she picks up the pace. Sam completely loses herself in Alex’s arms. She scratches and clings to Alex’s shirt, hoping that her message is clear. Take me, please have me. “You feel good,” Alex tells her as she pushes deeper. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alex coaxes. Clearly, she can feel Sam’s orgasm coming. 

Sam is taken by surprise. 

Alex holds Sam in her arms. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m…” Sam closes her eyes and manages to stand on wobbly legs. “I should go.” Alex doesn’t beg her to stay. Sam doesn’t expect nor does she want it. That would be far too difficult to walk away from. She’s nearly happy that she left. Happy enough to drive home, at least. But not happy that her legs shake as she showers and certainly nowhere near content as she climbs into her bed and can still feel Alex between her legs. 

Sam is thankful that the next day is Sunday. It gives her an excuse for everything. She wakes up early, fixes herself a decent breakfast, and puts on her Sunday best. She doesn’t care much for standing out but she cares about being on time. She enjoys the simple greetings, seeing kids hurry off to Sunday school, while all the adults file into the sanctuary. Her hand trembles, ever so slightly, when she finds herself sitting in the spot where she and Alex were just the night before. 

The hush that comes over the crowd is palatable. Sam jerks her head up in time to see Alex walking down the aisle and finding a seat near the back alone. Her hair is neatly combed, she’s wearing dress pants, and the button-up is the cleanest thing Sam has ever seen her in. If Sam was braver she’d join her. Instead, Sam listens to her pew neighbors yammering on about ‘the nerve of her’. 

The sermon is shorter than usual. She suspects it has to do with the way the Pastor keeps staring at the back of the church, right at Alex. When it’s over, Sam doesn’t sit and marvel at the stained glass windows or talk and seek out a slice of cake in the kitchen, she practically sprints outside. 

“...what’d you just say to me?” Sam wishes she could get there before Alex throws a punch, but grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the scuffle is all that Sam can manage. 

“What are you doing here?” Sam yells before she somehow ends up on the back of Alex’s motorcycle. Everyone is looking at them and a man has a bloody nose, Sam isn’t sure that she can ever go to church again. 

Sam holds onto Alex too tight as they drive. It’s terrifying, yet refreshing, and Sam doesn’t even realize her eyes are closed until they’re pulling up to Alex’s house and Alex hops off the bike, doubled over laughing. “God, I’ve missed church.” 

“You’re crazy.” Sam smiles at the way Alex can’t seem to control her laughter and her cheeks keep puffing out before she begins cackling again. “You’re a jerk. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m having fun, sue me.” 

“Everyone couldn’t stop looking at you.”

“I noticed,” Alex tells her as she finally calms down. “I also noticed that you didn’t look at me once.” Alex grabs her bag off the back of her bike, unzips it, and wiggles out a war-torn bible. “I had to go into my family storage unit to find this.” 

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Alex stands there awkwardly for a moment. It’s the first time Sam has truly seen her uncertain. “If you want to forget about what happened last night…”

“I wouldn’t know how to forget it even if I wanted to.” Sam takes a deep breath, “which I don’t.”

“Are you hungry? I’ve got...I dunno, something in the fridge, I’m sure.” When they get inside, Sam sees that Alex does have plenty in her fridge, but she doesn’t seem to know what to do with any of it. Sam is more than happy to take over. Alex doesn’t quite know what to do with herself, so she plays some music and makes ice tea and hovers around the kitchen nervously. “This is erotic.”

“What?” Sam nudges Alex’s arm. 

“Cooking is sexy.” 

“Your mother should’ve washed your mouth out with soap, you know. You don’t know how to behave.” 

“You can teach me how to behave.” Alex rests her hand on the small of Sam’s back. Sam is reminded of what those hands are capable of and she starts to blush so much that Alex actually pushes her hair back behind her ear, just so she can see the effects of her flirtation. “I can teach you how to behave too.” 

“You’re bold.” 

“Yeah, but you like that about me.” 

Lunch is wonderful. They bench talking about religion and instead find themselves arguing furiously over the best restaurant in town. Alex does not back down, ever. Sam enjoys what little leeway she has because she has apparently made a wonderful meal. 

There’s also touching. There are no accidents between them. Alex touches Sam’s forearms and briefly wiggles around Sam’s earlobe. Sam grips Alex’s thigh for all of a minute and flicks her nose. These are their codes for permission and after lunch, while Alex is cleaning the dishes, Sam picks at her thumb and finally asks, “How big is this house?” 

“Uh…” Alex dries a cup and throws the towel over her shoulder. “Four bedrooms, two and a half baths.” 

“Can I get a tour?” 

“If you want.” Alex shuts off the faucet and abandons the rest of the dishes in favor of leading Sam down the hallway and showing her a small bedroom. “This used to be mine. I moved into a bigger room when I was thirteen. That’s where all the trouble started.”

“I keep hearing about all this trouble, but no one has really told me what it is.” 

“I had sex with the pastor’s daughter,” Alex says nonchalantly. “More than once.” 

“Wow.” Sam laughs. “Okay.”

“No big deal. I like that kind of trouble.” Alex shows her the next room. “The fun kind, you know.” Sam does know. She knows enough that when they get to the master bedroom, which is now Alex’s room, Sam kisses Alex. “You sure?” Alex asks. 

“I’m sure.” Sam kisses and guides Alex back, and soon Alex’s legs hit her bed and she sits, eyes going wide as Sam kneels in front of her. Sam unbuckles Alex’s belt and discards it behind her. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Alex assures her. 

“I really want to.” Sam starts tugging off Alex’s pants. “Tell me if I’m doing it right.” Alex pulls off her underwear but before Sam can touch her, Alex kisses her. Tongues and teeth biting and exploring. Sam can feel her body react to the way Alex is holding the back of her neck. When Alex pulls back, Sam can see just how much her pupils have dilated. There’s urgency as she holds Sam’s neck tighter and tries not to push her to where she wants her. 

Sam gets the hint.

Tasting Alex isn’t like anything Sam has ever experienced. She loves the way Alex teases and grabs her hair. She knows she’s doing good and Alex mumbles as much. Sam can feel how wet she’s getting just from hearing the way Alex whispers fuck and pulls her head closer. Sam wants desperately to look up at Alex but she’s nervous. Afraid the mumbles and groans are a farce. A way to placate Sam’s desires. When she finally does glance up at Alex, she’s already looking back. “I’m close,” Alex pulls Sam’s mouth even closer and moves her hips just enough to finally cum. “Jesus.” Alex leans her head back and takes a few deep breaths. 

“Was it okay?” 

“Fucking amazing.” Alex pulls Sam up and onto the bed with her and kisses her again. This time, she’s less insistent about biting and more insistent about pulling Sam’s underwear down. “Can we try something?” 

“...maybe.” 

“Stay right here.” Alex stands and tugs off her shirt and bra and goes into her closet. When she returns she’s holding some kind of leather harness attached to a…

“Oh.” Sam draws blanks for what to say. All she can think about is how hot Alex will look wearing that and how good it’ll feel for her. “We could try.” Sam’s attempts at being coy fly out the window, as she watches Alex put the harness on and walk over with enough confidence to let Sam know that Alex has certainly done this before. 

The way Alex manages to easily lift Sam up - again - and lay her down on the bed is heartstopping. Sam gives into another flurry of kisses. Alex bites her neck, it’s bruising and makes Sam gasp just enough to quell the intense shudder she feels when Alex pushes inside her. “Tell me when I can move,” Alex pulls the straps of Sam’s dress down enough so that she can unhook Sam’s bra. Her mouth does things to Sam that she will remember for the rest of her life. “Alex, please…”

“Please what?” 

“Fuck me, please.” Unlike before, when Alex was testing out the boundaries and doing her best to go slow, today she moves their hips together with reckless abandon. Sam holds onto Alex, scratching her back, grabbing her face and letting Alex swallow her moans. “Harder.” Alex laughs against her neck and runs her thumb along Sam’s bottom lip. 

“Be patient, sweetheart.” Alex pulls back and Sam groans at the loss of contact. And then - so fast that Sam hardly realizes it’s happening - Sam is on her stomach, with Alex behind her. “Is this alright?”

“Absolutely,” Sam says. The angle is better like this. Alex can go deeper and when Alex wraps her arm around Sam’s neck, just enough to feel possessive, Sam knows she’s a goner. Alex’s stamina is impressive and Sam is surprised she’s lasted this long with the way Alex has been going. “Harder, I’m close.” Alex listens to her. She goes faster and harder and deeper, all the while nipping at Sam’s neck. 

“I want you to cum, baby,” Alex tells her. “Cum for me, okay.” So Sam does. Again and again, and Alex doesn’t stop rocking her hips. Sam gets totally lost in her bliss, in the way she and Alex seem to fit so perfectly. 

The end isn’t really the end. Alex takes off the harness and holds Sam in her arms. They kiss like two kids trying not to get caught in the back of a movie theater. There’s laughter and plenty of it. Sam is still trying to catch her breath and Alex is gently kissing the hickeys on Sam’s neck. “You felt really good,” Sam admits, Alex’s smile tells Sam that she already knows. “God, Alex, I...I don’t do things like this.” 

“I know.” 

“Was it just…” Sam motions to the bed. “Something you thought would be fun?”

“It’s more than that.” Alex sits up so Sam can see her face. “I like spending time with you.” 

“You’ll get bored of me,” Sam assures her. 

“I might get comfortable with you if that’s what you mean. But bored? Not a chance.” 

“You’re sweet.” Sam nuzzles closer to Alex. “Maybe misguided too.” Alex holds her close and kisses her shoulder. “I have a daughter. I’m a teacher at the high school. I just don’t know if…”

“Did everyone get in your head about me?”

“No.” 

“They must have.”

“It’s not like that. What I’m trying to say is I don’t know where I fit into your life. I think it’s fun for you when I’m just this woman who believes too strongly in a thing that seems to have driven you away but...do you actually want to test this out? As in...something beyond the bedroom?”

“Yeah, I do.” Alex looks toward the window for a moment. “I need to take care of some things out there. Feel free to stay, if you’d like.”

“I might take a nap.” 

“I wore you out, huh?” Sam nudges Alex off the bed and Alex laughs all the way out of the room. Sam snoops - just a little - and changes into a warm oversized shirt. Sam hasn’t felt quite at home anywhere, let alone Wyoming, until right now. 

Sam will pick up Ruby from camp tomorrow. It’ll be a relief in one sense but also somewhat of a reckoning for these past few weeks. 

She doesn’t sleep. She watches Alex go in and out of the barn for a while before heading into the kitchen and finishing up the dishes. She feels particularly domestic and it doesn’t feel wrong. Sam is delighted by the fact that none of this feels wrong. “You look good in that,” Alex says from the kitchen door. 

“Sorry, I…”

“It’s okay. I like it.” Alex tugs off her work boots and sets them by the front door. 

“It’s getting late, I should…” Sam looks down at her bare legs. “Do you have some sweatpants I can borrow?”

“Yeah.” Alex disappears down the hallway and returns moments later with Sam’s clothes neatly folded and sweatpants that say East Clinton High down the side. Sam tugs them on and smiles at the way Alex looks at her. “So...I’m thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh oh’.” Alex scratches the back of her neck. “Maybe I should meet your kid.” Sam’s eyes widen. “No pressure, but...well, I figure that’d be the test anyway. And we obviously have incredible chemistry.”

“According to you.” 

“According to the way you moaned my name, actually.” Sam would shove Alex again if she was closer. “Look...I like you. I want you to give me a chance. So, whenever you’re ready - if you’re ready - my door is always open.” It sounds like a beautiful speech to end a brief summer fling. Alex walks Sam to her car, kisses her hand, and waves goodbye.

[9uk]

Where Are You?

⌲ summary : Kim Taehyung. That is the name of a nobody in school constantly carrying a camera around with him. Also, the name belonging to the guy who carried your last words

⌲ pairing : thirdeye!taehyung x reader

⌲ word count : 10k

⌲ genre: pinch of fluff, heavy angst

⌲ warnings : themes of depression, suicide, self-harm and paranormal activities. character death. taehyung can see ghosts that is.

⌲ a/n: this is quite different from what i usually write but i just needed to get the plot that has been bothering my head for months out of me. nonetheless, enjoy & feedback is always welcomed.

The way life works is a true wonder.

 Expect the unexpected, predict the unpredictable. It's all bound to happen one day, at a certain point of time in our very lives. You just have to catch that split moment, the millisecond on the dot���where a mini twist in your words or actions can bring about a very drastic change. It can be a tiny alteration that causes the downfall or rise of a situation. The choices we make for ourselves or others, is very much alike to a heavy dew sliding off a leaf and carelessly falling into stagnant water. The mini waves of the impact send the lily pads nearby dancing, a floating hibiscus petal to drift further into the unknown and push a sleeping fish a centimetre away from entering the opening of a heron's beak. It's the butterfly effect, minuscule yet major. Be it a coincidence or some cruel twisted joke god decided to play on you—you solemnly swear you heard a voice of another being in this house. A house you were supposedly alone in. It could be the cannibal. There is more than a fair share of emphasis placed on 'supposedly' because at this very moment, you are certain as heck that you are not the only one in here. Here being the old crooked house that sits alone by the edge of the second highest hill in town, standing obstinate to the ground despite the occasional flooding showers and hurricanes your region suffered. The old folks claim that the house belongs to a war veteran whose entire family starved while waiting for their sole bread-winner to come home. The man never made it back to his doorstep where his three children and spouse awaits, hope draining with every growl of their stomachs and in complete oblivion to the impending fall to the grave. Every so often, the family of five could be sighted behind the murky windows. However, there are also mediums who concluded from ridiculous superstitions and calculations of the house's location that a possible dead body could still be inside, and its vengeful spirit is bent on seeking retribution for the plain injustice of their murder. Depressed souls would see it as the way to the end, Blank minds and torn hearts enter the house with nothing but one wish—death. The number of suicides that occurred in the house is a little over a hundred—one hundred and three spirits to be exact, nothing more, nothing less—loitering within its four walls. There were instances of teenagers stepping foot into the forbidden site with hopeful hearts for a thrill and a video camera in hand, seeking for juicy content to gain views and be the first to break the belief — the bunch of kids were reported missing on the news a few hours after. The statistics are somewhat the building blocks to the infamous reputation it holds today. When the police went inside to search for the families' missing loved ones, it did not work out at all. In fact, the number rebelliously increased, the police force losing yet another one of their colleagues. 

That's when they decided that everyone is prohibited to enter, unless they carried a death wish. It is almost like the Suicide Forest in Japan, tarnishing those who visit with a conflicted soul. Even the authorities chose to not touch the house, claiming it was still on a long-term lease. And under whose name? 

They would never reveal.

The house became something everyone refuses to lay finger on, or even talk about. The ominousness it contained drove humans miles away, like a sleeping dragon not wanting to be bothered the slightest bit. It's almost like a door to a parallel universe or something. You did your homework regarding the possessed piece of property. The internet's local ghostbuster website shares more about the rumours circulating the house. 

You can't escape once you make it through the two front doors. This is as clear as day already, the number of missing bodies serving as solid evidence. Questions however, still bugged at your mind.

Why exactly is that? Were all the window sills locked? Or is the door just created to be one-way? Sometimes people are so caught up with their fantasies that they forget to look at things more logically. 

A cannibal was living inside. This is just a mere speculation, but it was not impossible. It seemed like the most rational explanation one could provide to the disappearance of people. Leftover bones can be easily cremated, destroying all traces of the deceased. But you had rather resort to jumping off a cliff or simply overdosing to kill yourself—than to ferociously be feasted on by your own kind. 

It was some kind of portal to another world. Although these kind of things were not scientifically proven, it was still a valid suspicion because nothing ever made sense about that creepy house. Maybe people went in and get sucked into another dimension or flung into hell. Maybe the books were right. As well as the shows and movies on television. Everybody was afraid, of what the gaunt and creaky relic held between its paint-flaked walls and dirt-smeared window panes, why people went in and never got out, why citizens were constantly missing—but the discovery couldn't be anything more valuable than a life. But you clearly cared a whole lot about yours, because you are not even batting a lash when you tell your friends that you were going to check the cursed place out. All you receive is the dropping of jaws and the heavy pleas for you to not go, because apparently ten years ago a man as bold as you executed the similar plan you had and- "Guess what Y/N," Woo-gi leaned across the table, the bowl of mashed potatoes shifting forward a little. "He died. Unnatural cause of death. His body was never found and the saddest thing is that the family couldn't even give him a proper burial or send him away in peace." Her attempted blazing eyes fixes on yours, and her fingers creep to the knife resting on the surface of the table cloth.  

Woo-gi is making the best efforts to get you to empathise with the family of the deceased man, knowing that trick works perfect on your soft putty heart. Lifting the cutlery up, she brings it down and mercilessly stabs into the piece of char-grilled pork chop for effect. There is a shredding sound of the piece of meat being torn apart by your dear pal. The vegetables at the side jump up in shock. "Gone. Just like that."

Her voice is a cold, menacing one which intended effect worked perfectly on your rather timid self, the bumps on your skin appearing unwillingly.

Her gaze finally drifts to the dish plate and leaves yours, allowing you to ponder over her words. In her final attempt to scare you out of the hasty decision, you only chew on your corn salad nonchalantly. She was right, it was a deadly risk but you wished you treasured your life as much as a normal person would. You didn't have any care in the world, dead or alive. So why not make the reason of your death be 'died exploring a haunted house', how cool and mysterious would that be on the headlines? "Sounds like a dream come true for me," You sweep the coleslaw you have no interest in to one side, isolated from the rest of the dish. Gone forever, just like that? You have been spending the past few years of your life sinking into the mattress and hoping the blankets would swallow you whole and cease your existence—what made her think that you would be afraid of something like that? Then you realise that your friends have no clue about your disorder. In fact, no one did. In their eyes, you were this outgoing girl who cracked plenty of jokes and lived with a happy family. At times, you would go overboard with your imagination but that's something people who felt constrained and suffocated often possess. Their stale life is the cause of their fantasies and aspirations running too wild.

But nobody would understand. She shakes her head and sighs, exasperated. It was like there were no words in the dictionary that can come together to bandage the open wound in your heart, or get rid of the black sticky substance bugging your insides since day one—even as a close friend, the most she can do is to pray for the best for you. No one can really help you out of this sunken pit, the route is yours to take.

"I'm telling you one last time," Woo-gi lunges forward to grab both of your hands, eyes glistening with worry, trying yet again, her utmost best to stop you in your dangerous expedition. For the last time. "Don't go."

Life works in mysterious ways, and you're the kind of person who would stubbornly step on a freshly mopped floor and try walk across it despite having a bright yellow caution sign shoved in your face. Maybe this would be the turning point in your life. A life which encompasses of...well, nothing much. The world's too tiring of a place to live in. And that is also why, you are in said haunted house, face to face with an unexpected human being. "Hey," Every drop of blood in your body freezes. It's the first thing you hear before a piercing scream leaves your chest, rattling the window panes. The sudden call startles the shit out of the shivering mess you were, your body jumping backwards out of reflex. You shun away from the piercing light being aimed straight into your eyes, arms coming up to block the sudden encounter. Cannibal? Cannibal! You shrieked and jumped back further upon realisation, making a beeline for the doors. Both feet took you there as fast as they could, the wooden planks beneath your heavy stomps threatening to snap. Except when you reach for the handle, the first rumour is proven to be true. The doors wouldn't budge. You shake them with all your might, only left with creaks and a stubborn obstruction to your fleeing. Your heart pounds wildly against your chest, with the knowledge that the monster is a few feet away from your panic-stricken form. "Just give up." The low voice appears behind you, the hairs on your back shooting up and your hands frozen. Why were you even so afraid? You wanted to die anyways. Nothing is able to coherently come out of your parched throat, only able to quiver in fear. "Do I really look that ugly?" The tone is derisive, so human-like and you think you may have overreacted. Whipping around, you are only met with bright white as a beam of light is pointed directly to your face. You may have been mistaken. But that doesn't stop you from feeling threatened. "Put that away." You commanded and once the shining path of white is directed to the ground, your hands slowly descend from shielding your face. "Kim Taehyung?" "Y/F/N?" The both of you speak out in unison upon the recognition, despite the low lighting playing as an obstacle. It was dark, but you can almost make out the look of shock on his face as he takes a moment to register your existence right in front of him. As for you, relief overwhelmed the surprise you felt and for once, you were thankful to see Kim Taehyung. A fair bit of questions were going through your mind now, and your heart was close to jumping out of your mouth any time soon. But somehow you managed to stay relatively calm. 

As long as Taehyung was standing there, looking at you with a face of confusion, you wanted to end your life faster to escape the interaction with this guy. Or to explain what in the world you were doing in a horrid place like here. God wouldn't let you die in peace, he had to let you bump into Taehyung minutes or hours—nobody knows—before your anticipated death. The only thing going through your mind is how you have to explain why you were inside the most forbidden house in town. Then, another thought flickers in your mind. What was he doing here then? It couldn't be... For some reason, he stands there, still astounded by your presence. Wait no, it had nothing to do with your presence. It was you. Just like how having a guest in here came off as no surprise to him, but the fact that it was you... You feel like you rendered him speechless, disbelief widening his eyes and parting his lips. He was acting strange. Just a few moments ago, he was telling you so confidently about the fate of the doors and now there was a 180 degree change in his vibe. He kept staring at you, the moonlight flaunting a light shimmer to his black orbs and you felt queasy under his relentless gaze—like he held some sort of power over your empty soul. You couldn't decipher just what is it in his eyes, your head hurt as you tried to think.

It was never the same case in school though. While you exuded an aura of confidence wherever you walked, leaving a trail of your floral scented shampoo and fruity perfume, Taehyung would keep his head low and try to blend in with the shadows. He didn't smell like anything, nor did he frequently speak. 

To his pals, at the very least. The moment you hear the name Kim Taehyung, the first word that comes to mind is eccentric. You weren't exactly someone to judge people in this manner, but you know him barely—only to the extent where you can only think of an adjective like that to describe him. You've seen him more than a couple of times around in school—always carrying a vintage camera around—but have never spoken a word to him. For an obvious reason, he was located in the best class—the one where the top students are—while you are in just another average class.

He was just another schoolmate to you. The both of you have never interacted during your whole journey in high school, except for that one time. However, you have only heard things about him. Unpleasant things that make your blood boil a little, because you feel like everyone should be treated equally no matter the circumstance.

One would say, "Kim Taehyung? You mean the guy who sits in the garden for an hour after school, waiting for a butterfly to land on his pinky finger? I mean, who even does that?"

Another would comment, "He's constantly talking to himself and his polaroid films, if that is even possible. Other than that, he either talks to flowers or trees. Sometimes, he eats by himself and then he raises his spoonful of rice to feed the person sitting opposite him—only that there isn't anyone there. Some girls screamed and ran away, even their boyfriends were scared of such a person. That is mainly why they didn't do anything bad to him.”

You didn’t have much thoughts about the guy, but you admired how he could be himself without the fear of being excluded from the norms of this society. He could find the comfort in being alone, and that was the type of peace you wish you possessed.

That one day, things blew out of proportion. It was a normal Tuesday, nothing extraordinary but school and sleep. You were seated with your usual group of friends during lunch, when suddenly a yell breaks through the canteen, followed by several laughters induced with pure evil. Almost the entire cohort turns to the infamous corner—just a small turn into the back kitchen where the trash is taken out by the vendors—the place where many students are dragged in there and come out with a  blue black to the eye and nasty purple patches all over their limbs.

The whole cafeteria slowly fills with hushed whispers and serious gossiping, heads turning to one another unable to drop the topic for now. Yoongi walks out from the corner, followed by a few of his friends of a milksop. Wussies, you silently remark on their terribly feigned outer strength and masks of bravery. Nothing but imbeciles, you curse them in your head. Yoongi and weaklings plop right next to you, the eyes from the surrounding tables discreetly catching up on the interaction between the both of you. "Y/N! You look gorgeous today." He tries to place his hand onto your waist but you quickly shun away from him. The small action itself caused the whole canteen to blanketed with silence, every pair of eyes now focusing on the drama that was about to unfold between the notorious gangster and his proclaimed girl. "Don't fucking touch me you disgusting piece of shit." You have had enough. The menacing words seem to pierce through every wall in the school, every person at the scene being informed of your opinion towards Yoongi all this while. You stand up, pointing a finger of accusation directly at his face—to which he flinches at, caught off-guard by your swift movement. If you had the opportunity to get away with it, you would have dug your nails into his eyeballs and gouge them out of his eye sockets, then feed one each to the weaklings by his side. Instead, you take a deep breath. Small gasps leave everyone's lips and he panics—ego bruised by your harsh rejection. Yoongi was your boyfriend. You've been tolerating him for quite some time now, all for the sake of your parents. Without this relationship, your dad would have never been able to clinch the business deal with his father. All it took was a couple of sweet phrases and fake smiles, you couldn't be bothered with the rest of him other than the profit he could bring to your company. Yoongi on the other hand, seems to interpret the relationship in a very different way. He seems to have grown fond of you and naively believed that love between the two of you is real. You never put a single thought or effort into the relationship with Yoongi, not wanting to mislead him any further but some guys just can't seem to get the message, despite the many obvious hints you've dropped. You never ask him out.

Or when he does, you would only politely decline. In school, most of the time you stick like glue to your friends and try to avoid him and his rambunctious clique at all costs. Your dear friends took empathy in you and helped you out of certain situations concerning Yoongi at times. Somehow your boyfriend's pleasant way of proving his worth was to step on the backs of people who seemed inferior to him to climb his own ladder of pride. 

It was like after each time he nailed someone to the ground and kicked their guts out, Yoongi feels like he reached another level of achievement. It's sickening to the thought and you want to have nothing got to do with that narcissistic asshole. This behaviour of his begin not too long ago, a few days prior when he marked his first victim. You were puzzled, but you didn't probe. He bullies physically and mentally, using their screams and pleas to feed his ego and push himself higher up the ladder. He started torturing anyone who ticks him off or come in his way to no end, and you think you may just be next albeit being his supposed girlfriend. 

The conduct only made you despise him even more. Come to the thought of it, the things you do for your parents include self-depreciation and the loss of any shame left in your skin. You can feel the anger slowly twisting in his veins, radiating off his now clenched fists. Contrary to his untamed anger building within him, his friends are slowly retreating from his side, trembling in fear at your spit of acid. You chuckled, almost despicably—both at the cowering of his tough underlings and the way he almost peed his pants at the mere fling of your index finger. He realises that you are mocking his fragility and there are a couple of muffled giggles ignited in the crowd—his temper starts to get the better of his mind as the emasculation finally dawns over him. Before he can lay a finger on you, you are already a step ahead of him—grabbing the cup of hot tea off the table and splashing the boiling liquid onto his uniform, scalding his body. You thought you had might as well went all out in punishing a rascal like him. Your friends reach for your arm, trying to hold you back from going any further in dealing with the jerk and you throw the cup onto the ground, causing it to shatter into fragments—the sound of the porcelain splitting and cracking into pieces haphazardly rings through their ears. You'd like to refer it as a clear warning to everybody witnessing the event—to simply not mess with you.

You wished to be left alone.

While he screams in agony at the possible second-degree burn, you waltz away from the commotion nonchalantly. You think that that scumbag ought to have a taste of his own medicine someday, and if no one else dare stuff it down his throat, you would more than gladly do so. You find yourself striding off—to the hidden corner behind the stalls. And there, you discovered the bloodied body of Taehyung. With a broken camera by his side. A boy like him deserved more than this, no human should ever be hurt as badly as this—especially for no reason at all but one's inability to control their emotions, and the poor decision to vent it out on others can make horrible things happen. You kneel down by his side, checking the wounds inflicted on him. Fishing out a packet of tissues you always keep in your pocket for emergencies, you wipe the blood stains off his abused skin. He's in too much pain to express his surprise at your assistance, grunting as you pressed the tissue against the wound. When the bleeding on a certain cut has stopped, you offer him the support of your arm to let him sit up straight. Taehyung holds onto your forearm and pulls himself up from the ground. He groans as he does so, his back clad with bruises and soreness. 

You noticed that he was stunned into a daze, probably at the grasp of realisation that someone was actually helping him. But you ignored his feelings, just shifted your attention fully onto the fixing of his injury. You recall having a plaster tucked away in your purse and you quickly take it out as well, secretly laughing at its design—hot pink with Hello Kitty. 

Taehyung doesn't miss the sound of light escaping your lips, and he himself bites down on his lip to hold back a chortle at the girlish visual of the bandaid—temporarily pushing the questions behind your intentions away. You actually felt glad you could bring a smile to his face with something like the childish print of a bandaid. Nonetheless, you peel it off and gently place it over the deep cut on his forearm as he tries to control his wincing. "Hey, it's alright. You can cry out for all you want," You smoothed the plaster flat and tight on his skin. When you lightly slap the face of the Hello Kitty to tease him, he lets out a yelp—something that sounds puzzlingly adorable coming from him. "Here, have this." You fish out a piece of candy from the other side of pocket, handing it over you the victim. The amount of surprise he shows never ceases. You let out a short laugh, "I know you're not a kid, but still..." You smile up at him. "Just take it as a form of apology for what I caused you to go through." Taehyung doesn't move a muscle, just sillily blinking at your actions. You take his hand and shove the sweet into his palm, closing his fingers around it. 

For a brief moment, both your eyes meet. 

There is an unexplainable exchange of thoughts running through each other's minds and it was close to feeling like the two of you shared something in common. Taehyung was ostracised in school and probably the life he had out there judging by his abstruse personality and unfathomable behaviour. He was a prisoner out here in the real world. 

Freedom, but yet he can't truly express himself without being placed behind bars in the eyes of others. 

You are guilty of doing so in the past, when he was nothing but a lingering, mystifying shadow that held no importance in your life. That's exactly what you did to him—judge and rule him out of the ordinary. All you feel for him is sympathy, and that isn't anywhere better than the culprits themselves if you weren't about to step out and lend him a helping hand. Regret washes over your system as his dark pupils venture into your soul.

 You were not as innocent as others perceive you to be. Bystanders were the invisible strokes of support to the metal bars that locked him up. His hand, although held by you, was trying to cling onto your grasp and not wanting you to leave. You would consider yourself a lucky chap indeed, having born into this world with food and shelter, kin and kith. In fact, rather luckier than the rest to be able to own what you like and not solely what you need. Above all of the materials your parents could afford, you were trapped in incongruity of being a prisoner of your own. You didn't know what you were passionate about in life, and to live without passion is akin to being dead. You just did well in your studies because the society deems that degree certificate as a strong foundation in your job. But you truly did not know if you really enjoyed burning the midnight oil to continuously mug or if the elation of attaining a perfect score on your assessment is pure, or just for the sake of your insatiable parents. Education is key. Well definitely, to a certain extent and you have witnessed how far your own set of parents are willing to go as long as you achieved soaring colours of distinction. 

Sleepless nights, wandering mind and a stagnant heart. Sometimes the urge to pretend to be ill to escape the torment of school. Sometimes the subconscious act of bringing the kitchen scissors to your wrist and slit... You want to collapse to the ground and never be able to wake up again. You wished a drunk driver would accidentally run you over and end everything for you. Then nobody would know about how tired you were of this pointless life. You were a prisoner of yourself too. With no doubt, you and Taehyung are definitely similar in many ways the world can't see. "See you...soon, I guess." A soft chuckle emits from you like that happening would be a miracle, but the expression does not reach your eyes. Your eyes that were blocked by a wall of defence to your vulnerability of an emptiness. She is broken. A whisper goes by his ear. She needs help. The raspy voice travelled to his other ear, making him shiver slightly but unnoticeably. Taehyung could feel it too but he was in no place to ask about your wellbeing. He could only stare and wonder. The eye contact was broken off, before your hand recedes from his, carefully. He catches the way a faint smile ghost on your features as quickly as it appeared. A bittersweet kind of happiness. But he doesn't say a word, even after your figure grows smaller with every step you take back to class. What you missed, is the shutter of the camera lens, floating in the air. "Hey, don't touch that!" He snatches the device back and winces at the stretch he feels in his back muscle.

"Y/N." The wooden planks beneath him cursed out loud, warning sirens of his voice turning stern. Besides his low voice and creaks of weak wood and nails, there is only a dripping sound from some leaking pipe. "What are you doing here?!" It is the second time he has raised the question to you, but you only keep silent, eyes searching the room for answers. 

Why hadn't you disappeared or get eaten by some ferocious beast yet? Taehyung was only complicating your attempt of suicide. You tried to keep your head clear when you first pushed the rusty front door open, disallowing the memories to flow into your mind.

 It was a blockage to all forms of happiness in your life, to prevent your pathetic self from backing out. But Taehyung, an actual human being, catching you in the act of wanting to kill yourself just shot a dose of reality into your numbing heart and racing thoughts.

  "Uh..." You wet your lips.

 "What about you? What are you doing here?" You turn the cameras back to him. It would not be shocking if he came here to take his life as well. Taehyung purses his lips in serious contemplation before candidly answering. "I can see ghosts," He looks down like it was something to be ashamed about. 

That wasn't the case for you. You were completely taken aback by his confession but you found it extremely intriguing. "Oh—Wait what?" One thing about the revelation was that it for sure explained a lot about the way Taehyung acts. You trust his words, but you don't know how to link it to the fact that he was standing right in front of you in the living room of this damned house. Raising a brow at him, you wish for him to elaborate further. "I uh, heard r-rumours circulating around in school, that uh," He pinches his brows.

 "You were going to come in here. So I kind of decided to see if it was true." You were amazed by his candidness.

"And it is." You mused.

It was heartwarming to see that someone actually bothered to risk their life to come look for you. Then again, Taehyung is a guy filled with secrets. God knows, but maybe he is the owner of this house. When his eyes capture yours for one more time, it drowned you into the whirlpool of emotions he was feeling. 

Something like denial, frustration and lastly, regret. The eye contact is never broken. Like Taehyung was staring so hard at you to try and figure the different parts of you out, to evaluate every inch of you and you squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?" You croaked out, beginning to feel very creeped out despite the tinge of softness laced in his eyes. "You—Urm, you—! Argh!" He only hesitates even more, turning into a stuttering mess. You jump back in surprise at his reaction. Lost and confused as to how to provide you with a suitable reply, he yells and pulls at his locks of hair. It was when he proceeds to fall to the ground on his knees and seemingly begin whimpering into his palms, all surprise turned into worry for the guy. You kneeled down and called out to him. "Shit—Taehyung!"

"What do you seek, young man?" "Your whole point here is to know and advice me." Taehyung bites back. "Very well. An unsolved mystery, something concerning a girl and regarding the old house just down the street." He shuffles his cards and keep them away neatly. It seemed like those tools will not be of any use to Taehyung, and he clearly understood why the man's face have fallen drastically—it isn't a simple case a few cards can crack. You were not only beautiful, you were inculcated with kindness, you held a type of pureness lost by many as they grow up, you spoke in a manner that is highly respectable and the crowfeet that form at the side of your eyes whenever you laughed too hard couldn't get any more adorable. He shifts uncomfortably on the hard wooden seat, and gulps anxiously. "Was her body found?" Taehyung doesn't know. 

He doesn't know where the hell you went or what the fuck you were doing, he only knows that when his eyes flew open, he felt the cold of the night stinging on his skin and an empty space next to him. You were no longer in his arms and the next moment he is springing up from the worn out couch and beginning his search for you. He looked every nook and cranny of the house for you but to no avail. The only resort left got him sitting across a renown psychic. But even the expertise in this region seems to find this case uncrackable. "No." He tilts his head, bringing out a rock of some sort. Taehyung sees it as a mere rock but not to him apparently. "This is the Magic Stone." His fingers fidget around with the purple coloured object. He does this continuously, causing Taehyung to perk an eyebrow up at his claim. The psychic burrows into deep concentration, a conclusion forming in his head. Then, all movement ceases. "Her soul has to bring you there herself."

 The medium's advice sounded strained, like it was the hardest thing to come to a conclusion like that. It's a clear excuse when he says the reason of those teardrops rolling down his cheeks are caused by the wind.

You want to reach out and pat him on the back in hopes of alleviating his pain but you quickly retract it back as the muffled sobs through his fingers grow even louder. All you could wonder at that point in time was whether something bad was happening to Taehyung. Maybe the demons in this house were taking him away first.

Maybe he is really going to die. Then, with every drop of care drained from your exhausted body, you placed your hand on his clothed back with a strong determination to do your best and ease him (into the underworld most likely) without any pain. "Are you okay?" Only for his cries to stop abruptly when he feels your hand smoothing over his back. Hastily, Taehyung removes his hands from his face and turns around to look at you. His eyes were red and swollen from all the desperate weeping, saliva of sorrow pooled in his mouth as he watches you with a kind of anguish and concern. It mirrored the look you gave him when you saw him lying on the ground, beaten up. This is where the two of you are similar. 

Prisoners, but of two entirely different reasons. You drifted your gaze to his elbow and notice the striking dash of pink. The band aid still being there was what solidified the certainty that this was all real. This wasn't some kind of twisted dream. And that would only mean one thing. Because your hand did not manage to rub his back, for the paleness casting over it only sank into his body, deep into his spine—only for his body to be in one piece as you fast to recede it like you had just touched a strong flame—unable to feel anything touching your palm even when you made that physical contact with him. "Taehyung... why..." You inspect your hands carefully. Your skin was never this white. All the hairs on your forearm had disappeared as well, your whole body lacking any hint of life. It felt surreal. Like something that would only occur in dreams. 

"Why can't I touch you?" Maybe if you try pinching yourself, you would wake up. Maybe this was just one of your daily nightmares from stress. It was when you started aggressively pinching the pale skin on your arms, thighs, waist—you realised you could still feel yourself. The only difference being that it was so, so cold. It was similar to touching an ice pack, frosty and nothing much else. 

Cold. That's how you feel and the perplexity that hit you all at once began transforming into larges beams of anger, sadness and helplessness. You wanted to cry as loud as you could for help. "Why do I feel so cold?!" You refused to believe anything your senses were telling you. Everything your naked eyes were showing you. 

Lunging forward, you run your hands all over Taehyung again and hope to actually feel something tangible. 

To your dismay, your fist only goes through his heart like he was made of air—no, like you were made of air. 

You were the dead one here.

"The police have searched the whole compound of the town and spread the news of the missing school girl country wide. In the past two weeks of finding the teenage girl, Y/F/N is still unable to be located. If you have come across—Zap." Taehyung clicks the button on the remote control and flings it to the other end of the couch in frustration. He ruffles through his hair, hoping for hints of you to magically pop up in his head. The thing is, the both of you had barely spoken to one another. Plus, he had a tough time speaking to the people at his-and your-school. One week. One whole week since the disappearance of your body. The police are proven to be fucking useless and incompetently unreliable, he mentally notes. He figured that the fastest method to locate you, would require him to act out on his own. The list of things that can happen to your body goes down a long scroll that even Taehyung himself is unwilling to imagine. He wants you to at least, still be in one piece when he finds you. He uses the term body, because your soul is for sure loitering somewhere in town. It can't go too far from your body, a rule he remembers by heart. So, it wouldn't be entirely impossible to detect where your corpse would be. Think, think, think! He repeats like a mantra in his bursting head. Where would you go if you were this free, lingering spirit? And then he recalls.

"You're up here again."

He pushes himself up onto his usual spot—a high wall surrounding the perimeter of the rooftop, granting anyone up here a perfect view of the school field and vast blue sky. The job of the wall is to prevent any students from falling over and have their bodies crush to pulp when they plop to the ground floor. But Taehyung doesn't play by the rules. Where is the fun in that? He often questions anything that has to do with system and order. As a person who lives by pure intuition, Taehyung brings himself to the top floor for the second time after just doing so the day before. It could be the voices whispering encouragements for him to pay upstairs a visit, or maybe it had to do with a very strong gut feeling tugging at his chest. Nonetheless, he was here.

The boy from yesterday is situated at the exact place as before. His skin was terrifyingly pale—but not translucent—and the cracking of his bones could still be heard whenever he swinged his legs. He must have just died a few days ago, Taehyung concludes. The boy doesn't acknowledge Taehyung, nor does he reply.

"What are you doing here?" Taehyung cranes his neck a little to face the boy properly—who in turn was staring at his feet with a strange amount of attention. Then upon following his line of sight, Taehyung realises how small and young the boy was—his own legs were almost twice as long as the kid's.

"My brother," He finally speaks, but only softly.

Taehyung digests his answer for a moment, before cautiously popping the second question. He knew better than to ask why the boy had died, it would probably even send the kid into a fury and then to hell, which was the last thing Taehyung wanted to happen to him. "If you don't mind me asking," He nervously grips the edge of wall.

 The boy tipped his chin up slightly, intrigued by his words. His big round eyes came into view, leaving a heavy load to weigh at Taehyung's heart. His eyes, still freshly glistening and vibrant with blackness illustrated the bright and long road that awaited him in his life, only to be torn apart by whatever fatally tragic accident he was met with. It's a pity. It's a pity how some promising futures can be so easily robbed of in a blink of the eye. It is not a frequent occasion where tears pricked at Taehyung's eyes. He closes them for a second, before getting the question out. "Who is your brother?" The boy now turns to fully face him, legs still swinging regardless. His eyes looked way bigger and innocent than Taehyung had thought they would be. And it doubled the pain beneath his ribs.

It's suffering to bump into an innocent soul. He had rather someone who acted the way they deserved their death. The boy switches his stare on Taehyung now, silent while his orbs grow shinier. "I'm sorry in advance," The child looks like he was about to burst into tears. Taehyung felt the same. What was a sweet boy like him even apologetic for? "Min Yoongi." Taehyung blinks in surprise. The boy was gone. A series of giggles echoed in the stairway and without another thought, Taehyung hops down to hide himself from whoever was there. He does not recall any platform being built after the wall. He simply knows that if he falls over from such a risky position, he would die. He heaves a deep sigh of relief when the platform does not crumble into pieces under his full weight. He thinks it must be the doing of the boy. His smile is cut off when the footsteps and voices grow louder, noticeably two female students just hanging out. Unlike being rash as himself, they only prop their elbows on the wall, admiring the scene as that. Which he was grateful for, otherwise he would definitely get caught for loitering around carelessly. "Finally. Something great about this shit hole." Taehyung sticks onto the wall like a lizard, trying his best to be away from the edge. "Honestly, the perfect spot to take fresh breather," the other voice makes an appearance. "No one ever comes up here unless you want to be making a serious offence." A flock of birds crosses the sky and Taehyung secretly hopes they don't share the tiny space with him. "For peace and quiet, I'd give anything." The first voice replies. He silently nods in strong agreement. And he recognises it as yours, because of that one time you were called up to present a book review in Literature class. Your voice was distinct yet soft, you spoke with a sense of urgency to bring your point across and yet still manage to maintain your composure in your tone. He must say he’s never been this impressed by a presenter before.

And here he is, hearing the same voice again. This time, much quieter and lower compared to in class, but it leaves him beyond intrigued of the next content spilling out of your mouth. "Then, where are you going to get your dear peace and quiet after this semester?" The second girl with the higher pitched voice asks. "Hm, great question." The first girl ponders and probably stares into the horizon.

Then she replies, after the earth spins a full round. "Somewhere with sand and salt maybe." She answers seriously, after much consideration. "Can't you just say the beach? You idiot." "Whatever. Just checking if that peanut brain of yours is working." A gasp can be heard. "You better run before I catch you!" Their shoes leave heavy footsteps on the concrete and their voices gradually fade away.

Taehyung feels bad for eavesdropping onto their conversation, but it was something he couldn’t help even if he did not want to.

Speaking of which, Taehyung hasn’t thought about what he’d like to do during spring break. Maybe he’d bring some flowers and offerings for Yoongi’s brother and the others always by his side. Without being seen, that goes without saying.

They’d be over the moon to receive flowers because no one is really there for them. Or have simply forgotten about them. Taehyung wonders if anyone would bring him flowers when he passes on.

Still, Taehyung felt a seed of envy being planted inside of him, wishing that he could go to the beach or park during the season of blossoms with friends and genuinely have a good time. He has never gotten the opportunity to hang out with any normal human ever since birth. He told a friend he trusted about his ability of seeing things normal people couldn’t and the boy went about telling everybody about his confession which led to the beginning of his ostracisation

Weirdo. Freak. Those were the names he eventually got accustomed to being called as.

The seed of envy grows. The both of you are lucky enough to be discussing about where to head to for vacation, something he couldn’t do.

Lucky enough to be going on a vacation. Not everyone has that blessing.

He wish he could be like everyone else. Lead a normal life, have friends, and be wealthier. This way, he wouldn’t have to struggle so much.

For a moment, he wishes that he could replace the position and live the life of anyone else. 

Like the girl who can play the violin. 

Like the boy always sleeping in class.

Like the school’s janitor.

Like Yoongi. 

Like you.

"Hey you! What are you doing up there?!" Someone like a security personnel yells at him from downstairs. Now, how the hell was he supposed to get back up there?

You must not be far. His feet dents the soaked sand beneath, leaving prints that queued in line to be washed up by the incoming waves. With the ends of his pants rolled up, he spins around aimlessly to search for you. It was fortunately a weekday, which allowed the beach to be emptier. And that would make the task of spotting you much easier. He strolls along the coast, patiently kindling his instincts to take him wherever you were to be. It feels almost surreal—the texture of the grainy sand rubbing against the sole of his feet, the gentle whispers of the arriving waves, the wind slicing through his thick hair, ruffling it like feathers—how peculiar it felt to realise that he is alive, being hyper aware of all five (or six) senses.

The tangibility of things would signal that he is actually a living human, but something intangible is missing in him and it makes the whole experience of being alive feel so...detached. Every part of his body felt like it didn't belong to him—it was his toes coming in contact with the sand and not him, it was his hair dancing with the wind and not him, it was his legs moving on their own accord and not Taehyung. This is what happens when you interact with supernatural beings for the whole of your life, he thinks.

"Hey watch your step!" A shout intrudes his thoughts. Taehyung pauses, retracting his feet back. The small kid carries on building her sandcastle with her companion. Watching their busy hands, Taehyung tries to figure out who exactly was the one who warned him. Regardless, he whips out his camera to take a shot of the girl building sandcastles. "Yay! It's done!" The girl pats the top of the castle and runs towards the benches shrieking in contentment, failing to withhold the excitement of breaking the news of the small achievement to her mother. The other girl however, only smiles at Taehyung and vanishes. He runs his eyes across the ground. Just below his toes, there laid a tiny baby turtle. It scurries, towards nowhere, seemingly unable to acquire the skill of waddling on the fine sand like all his other pals. A meter ahead, his friends totter in clusters towards the entrance of the sea. The poor buddy struggles hard to walk properly, let alone find the correct direction home. He suddenly grows conscious of the couple of seagulls chilling by the water. But he was too preoccupied with the aim to find you to bother about the weak creature. As he was just about to dismissively stroll away, something tells him to make a turn and save that baby animal. He should make a difference when he can. He definitely should. He could actually salvage a situation. A life that is. He jogs back faster than the predator birds could, quickly finding the turtle again and gently picked it up. The shell looked too big for its body and its two big ebony eyes popping out of its sockets gazing at Taehyung—are filled with gratitude. Or so he assumes. The creature makes some kind of fuzzy noise—of happiness—when it is put down onto the sea line to join its siblings. The rambunctious clique waddles their way into the ocean, gliding across and surging into the water, one by one, delightfully. The seagulls trots away, lunch stolen. He continues his trail. Slowly, a pier approaches. And similar to Yoongi's brother, a girl sits at the end of the wooden platform all by herself.

She radiates frozen, cold heat and as he gets closer, the temperature dives. He carefully crafts his steps towards the lone spirit, begging the planks to not creak too loudly in fears of scaring her away. With every inch he gets closer to the girl, the clouds present in the sky turns darker, accompanied with the flush of even more greyness which eventually overlays the initial coat of cyan. The familiarity of the uniform boosts the confidence in him to call out your name. "Y/N?" She stands up—indeed the girl reported missing—and Taehyung was glad it was you. The troubles fogging his mind seem to have cleared at the plain sight of you. He was relieved that he had at least found your soul. It was another thing to find your body though, and that is the main objective here. Connecting your body with your soul would be the final resort in sending you off in peace. He had a day left. Twenty four hours before you wouldn't be able to leave in peace. Before your pure soul would dissipate into a fiery pit of wrath, abandoned in the darkest abyss until you transform into a vengeful spirit. All the hatred, pain and misery would be instilled in your afterlife that is deadly inescapable. These overwhelming amount of negative emotions trapped in your soul would then leave you in this state, forever. The sight was inexplicably depressing. Just a few days ago, you were real to the touch. He could feel your fingers smoothing over the plaster on his arm. He could see the satisfaction radiating off the smile you flashed at him before, leaving. He could smell the light cherry blossom from your shampoo flowing in the air. He could hear the base of your sneakers hitting the floor as you paced your way to class. Yet now, the wood underneath wouldn't make a sound as you got up.

Your lips were chapped and your crusting skin was faded. Compare to a few days ago at the house, you looked much worse and haggard.

The corners of your mouth quivered, itching to bring forth expression but unable to do so. You couldn’t even smile. You couldn’t even cry if you wanted to.

Now you were toeing the line that crossed the real world and heaven apart.

Somehow he feels like it is partly his fault. Maybe if he had tugged onto your wrist and asked you to stay back a little longer. Maybe if he was quick enough to catch you after school. Maybe then, you wouldn't have had the chance to end your life. Caged by your fingers, was a head of pink.

"I heard that pink carnations stand for the remembrance of the dead," 

His brows furrows at your words. How is it that you were able to comfort him so easily, while he is here having a difficult time to even form words to express his grief. But he was sure that like him, you didn't crave for sympathy at all. 

Maybe if he had clung onto the empty look in your eyes, thinking more than he should, stepping out of his comfort zone to care for you. Then perhaps, this situation would never take place. Then with a heaving chest, he clenches his teeth to embrace the fact that you are no longer existent in this real world. It was pointless to think about all the possibilities that could have dodged this situation.

"I hope someone remembers me." 

Uncontrollably, a bead of tear seeps out and rolls down his cheek. His nostrils flare up as the sadness and realisation overtakes every cell in him that was fighting against the tide of sorrow. His heart feels like someone plunged their fist into his bare chest and ripped it out. Thrown onto the ground and stomped into pieces.

Lips quivering, Taehyung fights back the devastation and gathers the last scrapes of sensibility in his mind, using all the energy his rationality could afford—brings the camera looped around his neck up to his eyes, and snaps.

Through the lens, a pink carnation levitates above the pier, the ocean a transverse blue spread across the rectangular panel, accentuating the vibrant colour of the dainty flower.

The camera lowers, along with his head.

He was sobbing by now, all the while you gently hold the flower and stare at him with the same hollow eyes. “Why?!” He grits out between cries. 

"Why..." The later one comes out in broken, incoherent snippets.

You are really not here anymore. With him.

"I'm weaker than you think," You breathed out with a faint smile following the confession. His heart clenches and twists into a tight knot, pulling at his conscience.

"And don't you worry, I will return to my body." 

The fact that you were still trying your best to maintain cheery for him despite being dead twists his heart viciously. The world is too cruel to you, and to him. An angel like you deserves to seek your happiness in a better place like the skies above. The visage of you is becoming transparent, signalling your departure. Taehyung musters all that is left in him to take a step forward and press his palm softly to your face. He could not feel anything but his hand was just there, for support and consolation.

"I will remember you." 

His words of affirmation sets your heart at ease. You finally understand how they would all say, that the true pain does not lie within the process of dying, but in truth lies within the witnessing of those who love and care for you, break down. After climbing out of your state of denial at your own death, you have come to terms with that fact and wish for nothing more than to end the whole suffering. It lurches at your heart seeing a guy like Taehyung who you were not even that close to, crying like he had just lost a precious belonging. Like the world had just lost a precious belonging. You hoped that people remember you. For all your hard work in this world, for all the full marks you attained, for all the certifications you achieved, for all the smiles you have bring and the band aids you have placed on others. You hope that when people think of you, it is nothing but filled with goodness. There were, no regrets to say the least.

 Your body may not be in its best condition, but the accident pulled your death off pretty well. It left you with no second thoughts, no last words, just a brutal blow to your side and head. It killed you with perfection, leaving no hesitation and last words—just met with the end in a solid second. You're suddenly worried Taehyung gets into trouble again.

"If anything, I'll protect you alright?"

Taehyung chuckles unbelievably through sniffs. 

"We'll meet again.”

Your final words splinters apart, the bottom half of your body already beginning to dissipate. You gradually dissolve into the thin air—the cold mist and you becoming one— and the skies clear up in no rush. The carnation drops to the wooden floor with a thud. 

I will remember you.

It was a chilly night, an expected downpour to attack in about an hour. His curtains danced to the rhythm of the wind, flowing about violently. "The body of the missing school girl has been recovered after a hiker going for his morning exercise smells rotten flesh in the woods. The police suspect that the girl may have jumped off a cliff from above as an attempt of suicide." Taehyung shifts his attention back to the mac and cheese turning cold on his lap. At one point, the winds were so rough that the vase sitting on the top of his dresser wobbles in jeopardy before another ferocious blow arrives through his window and topples the glass over, onto the ground. Shattered into fragments. Water spills out and the pink carnation flows along on the liquid like a dead body in a river. He internally groans at the mess he has to clean up afterwards, but it is only for a short moment before his attention is snatched by the voice of news anchor on television once again. "However, the forensics department has confirmed with the backing of further detailed analysis of the crime scene, that there were skid marks indicated on the road at the edge of the cliff accompanied by scraps of car paint evident on the victim's clothes." The carnation on the ground blackens, curls up into a crushed stalk of wither.

[sciendere]

What’s This?

Snowdeke fluff, post S7 in my self indulgent headcanon where everyone gets a happy ending and absolutely nothing bad happens to anyone. 

Summary: The holidays can  be stressful, especially when it’s your first Terran Christmas and you’re still learning how to properly people. Deke is trying to help Snowflake navigate the holidays through the help of movies, and she finds herself relating in particular to the misadventures of one Jack Skellington. A series of scenes of Snowflake discovering and trying to understand Yuletide, as set to the lyrics of What’s This? from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Inspired by my Snowflake Christmas headcanon post.  Just tumblr now, this is the first fic I’ve completed in literal years and I’ve lost my AO3 login information because I’ve never really had anything to put there until tonight. Enjoy my odd little story please!

~

Adjusting to new cultures is never an easy thing. At least that’s what Deke kept repeating to himself under his breath as he tried, with his limited modern-day Earth knowledge, to help Snowflake acclimate herself to Terran life. She’d managed a basic grasp of most mundane daily situations- be friendly, be polite, and knives stay in your pocket- but special occasions, holidays in particular, were still a bit foreign to her. Routine was so much easier, especially when for years it was literally the only constant in her life. Something he even understood, so when words failed him, he had a secret weapon- passwords to every streaming service he had. Television and movies were his teacher, and now they were hers. December had come before they knew it, and as she watched the Thanksgiving Day parade, confused and bewildered by the strange-to-her things on display, he realized the time had come to teach her about the winter holidays, Christmas in particular. Christmas meant parties, parties meant company, and company meant the fiancee needed to be on her best and least embarrassing behavior. This was already a bit of a tall order for Snow, and for the most part, Deke let her eccentricities slide as long as there were no injuries or casualties, but he also didn’t want her to feel left out. “So,” he said one day, handing her the remote to the TV like a proud father handing his child the keys to their first car, “Christmas is coming. You need to learn about it.”

“Ooh, is it binge-watching time again?” she asked. Her eyes lit up. “I love binge-watching!”

“It’s binge-watching time,” Deke replied. “Your mission: gather as much intel on the Terran celebration of Christmas as you can. Preferably in the next week or so. Parties start early, yo.” “Mission accepted!” she squealed. She snuggled into the beat up couch in their apartment’s living room, making herself comfortable. “Great, have fun,” he said. “You want me to order pizza or anything?” “You know my regular order.” Deke rolled his eyes. Engaged life had its ups and downs, and one of them was having to recognize your woman, as much as you might have in common with her, will always disagree with you on extremely important topics. He sighed. “Pepperoni, canadian bacon, and pineapple,” he said, disgusted and horrified but still a supportive man to the very end.

“That’s my boy,” she said.

~ A few hours later, stacks of pizza had been devoured by both of them during that evening’s Christmas movie marathon, and Deke had dozed off beside Snow on the couch. They’d worked their way through several of the classics- Elf, Muppet Christmas Carol, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, and A Christmas Story- and Snow clicked her way lazily through the titles on the screen, looking for one that really caught her eye without Deke’s helpful advice to guide her. She’d come to understand the holiday a bit from them, but it was still so foreign. The movies were good, but she just didn’t grasp entirely the sentiments behind them.  One in particular truly stood out to her, one that from the poster art didn’t even look like much of a Christmas movie at all, but instead, bore a smiling dapper cartoon skeleton man. “The Nightmare Before Christmas?” she read off the screen. It was certainly different from the other titles she’d seen. “Awesome.” She hit play on the menu and watched as the stop-motion puppets filled her screen, already in love with the morbid imagery. Finally, a movie that spoke to her soul. Deke woke up about half way into the movie, to find Snow beside him paying rapt attention to it. “Huh what’s this… oh Nightmare Before Christmas? Always watched it at Halloween myself but I guess it’ll do too.” “This movie is amazing! Jack’s just like me.. He just wants to learn and figure out Christmas and he sang a whole song and he’s just trying to make Christmas for everyone!” Snow pointed to the screen, where Jack was puzzling over the secret to Christmas. “See? That’s me now,” she said. Deke just smiled, happy his woman was happy. Maybe she’d figure out this Christmas thing in time… ~

Nightmare became a favorite for her over the next few days. Though she still puzzled over Christmas, Deke had begun to walk her through the holiday by explaining it to her the best he could, but late at night she’d return to Halloweentown, feeling a little less alone in Jack’s bewilderment at a world he loved but also didn’t totally understand. Of all the songs, “What’s This?” captured her feelings best, she thought, not just about Christmas, but getting used to another world entirely.

~ What's this? What's this?

There's color everywhere

What's this?

There's white things in the air

What's this? “So.. the white ornaments on the trees are-”

Snowflake had never cut Deke off faster, and she was used to him saying several stupid things a day. “I swear to gods, Deke, if you even try to explain the concept of snowflakes and snow to me. Like I don’t know what my own damn name means. It’s the one thing I DO get about the holidays.” She smiled, but it was one of her smiles laced in venom and dried blood on the blade of a dagger, one where you were reminded, and fast, she’d spent years as the galaxy’s deadliest assassin, and she could go back to that life anytime if she really wanted.

He chuckled nervously but knew she meant business, even if she was joking. And God help him if he ever wound up on her bad side. “Yes’m,” he said. 

“False advertising, though, there’s none out here right now even though it’s winter. I feel like it’s just a tease to throw those picturesque landscapes at you when we don’t know what the weather on the 25th will be at all just yet. This is a planet with varying climates, is it not?” “Well, yes…”

“Then why is it being advertised like we’re on a frozen planet?” “Snow, honey, it’s stylistic, just don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink most of it. In fact, thinking? Highly overrated in general.” “First time you’ve made sense all day. You know, though,” she said, “it’s not hard to pretend half the songs on the radio right now are actually about me. Because everyone here just loves me that much.” “You were wanted for murder and larceny in five states before I bribed Daisy into hacking their law enforcement’s networks to clear your name.” And it was expensive as hell too,  he thought to himself. “Let it Snow. Is about me.” “Right, right,” Deke said. “You’re right.”  

~

What's this?

There are people singing songs

What's this?

The streets are lined with

Little creatures laughing

Everybody seems so happy

“So you’re just telling me people go out in big groups and sing in public places, not even for money, and no one really cares? And they’re called… Curlers?” Swing and a miss, Deke thought, but he gave her points for genuinely trying. The two were on a park bench listening to a choir sing in the city park. “Carolers. Curlers play a weird ice sport with brooms and a rock.” “Who’s Carol? What’s she got to do with it? Should I know about her? Is she the lady statue over there?” Snowflake pointed to a nearby church’s Nativity scene and Deke quickly pushed her hand down, praying the awkward stares from passerby stayed at a minimum.

“It’s just another word for song, they just.. They sing. To make people happy, make them remember stuff. It’s fun.” She still struggled at the idea of being a street performer just for the enjoyment of it, not sure why anyone would do anything like that without it getting them money, but it was simultaneously the most adorable thing she’d ever heard. “I’m glad they’re doing it. Their singing is pretty.” ~ Oh, look

What's this?

They're hanging mistletoe, they kiss

Why that looks so unique, inspired

It was the afternoon and Snow couldn’t help but notice the weird little bit of twigs hanging over the doorway of the kitchen. “Deke, there’s plants on the doorframe! What have you been up to this time?” “Decorating?”

She reached for the leaves the best she could with her tiny frame and sniffed up into the air. “Mistletoe,” she said. “We had this on my planet. Leaves and berries are poisonous. Really good for if you want to take someone out without a lot of mess- is this a present? For me? Who do you need-” “Wait wait wait- Snowflake NO, no one is getting poisoned.” 

She frowned. “Waste of good mistletoe if you ask me. What is it for, then?” “So… you hang mistletoe from doorways, and if you and your love walk under it… you kiss.” “We kiss under the poisonous, parasitic bush?” She was confused but intrigued by this strange custom. “Look, it’s tradition, don’t ask questions, I don’t know either.” “And I thought Terrans were soft… that’s the most badass thing I’ve ever heard of in my life. Kiss me under the poison.” “You really don’t need to put it like that-” Deke said, but before he could finish, Snow had pulled him in for a kiss. One he happily returned. He wasn’t about to waste some good mistletoe, after all. ~ They're gathering around to hear a story

Roasting chestnuts on a fire

Snow threw a copy of The Night Before Christmas across the bedroom. “No, I’ve tried to understand so much of this holiday, most of it I’m coming around to, but this? This is where I draw the line.”

“Sweetie, it’s a kid’s book, it’s not that big a deal-” “No, I’m not upset about a book,” she said, “This… this Santa? No sense at all,” she said. “The sleigh is just magic, like any other kid’s story, you really don’t have to try that hard to understand it.” “Oh no,” she replied, “the sleigh makes perfect sense to me. Santa knows what’s up, you put in your coordinates, fiddle with a few things, the ley lines get you to the nearest destination. Easy, basic dimensional travel, even if it might be a bit more efficient if he didn’t insist on using reindeer. Makes all the sense in the world to me, the rest of you all just need to get on our level. But everything else about the big man… No.”

“I’m going to hear about your problems with him whether I want to or not, aren’t I?” Deke asked. “Bingo,” she said. “You people are just okay with a man in a red suit breaking and entering? To leave presents for children? A man in velvet and fur does that, it’s holiday spirit, I do that, and it’s ‘creepy’ and ‘wrong’ and ‘next time, Snowflake, just knock’” “I warned you Nana and Bobo have been Terran all their lives and they were going to take your ‘extreme baby surprise’ a bit differently than you thought they would.” “And I told you it’s good for the little brat, keeps them on their toes and gives them a bit of exciting mystery in life. So I get why the Terran children love this story so much, even if I think it’s a case of double standards. But the man’s clothes are simply not stealthy or tactical. You can’t sneak in red, especially on your mythical white Christmases, you’re going to stick out from a mile away! And don’t get me started on the chimney… what happens if you don’t have one. We don’t have one, would Santa just climb in through the window? Lockpick?”

Deke nodded. She made several points, even if it was a bit much for her to approach Santa through the perspective of her area of expertise. “I got nothing on those last two points.”

“He goes to all that work… for snack food,” Snow said. “At least you lot could tip your home invaders a bit better. I’d expect at least large sums of money, in small unmarked bills, for that kind of performance.” Deke nodded. Milk and cookies really did seem like an unfair trade-off for overnight delivery. “I hear what you’re saying but that’s just the Christmas spirit for you, he’s grateful just for the snacks. He does it to be giving. At least, I think that’s supposed to be the point of it all.” 

His reply took her aback. She would rather lose her right hand than admit Deke was right in this conversation, easily, but at the same time, she could see the little nugget of truth in what he had to say. One that made her stop and think. Snow pulled herself out of bed and walked across the room to pick the book up. “But all that aside, it’s a lovely story,” she said quickly. “Even if nothing about it makes sense.” “You never make sense. Like. In general.” “I know. Get used to it, because we don’t do sense in this household.” “Wouldn’t have you any other way.” ~ What's this?

In here they've got a little tree, how queer

And who would ever think

And why?

They're covering it with tiny little things

They've got electric lights on strings

 “This one,” she said, “this is the perfect ornament for the dead tree.” Snow waved a Christmas ornament in front of Deke’s face in the packed gift shop, a kitten in a gift box holding the banner “Meowy Christmas.”

“For the last time, it’s called a Christmas tree,” Deke said. “Even if it… is… a dead tree. Technically.”

“Well the dead tree needs a festive Flerken on it,” she said, putting the bauble in his shopping basket. “They’re cats here, snowbunny,” Deke whispered, “cats.”

“Cat, Flerken, potayto potahto, isn’t that how it goes? We have to buy these too,” she said, putting a box of round glass ornaments into the basket. Deke looked in and was unsurprised to see glittering snowflakes painted on all of them. 

“These are just regular ball ornaments we have plenty of- oh,” he said. He knew despite her original misgivings about the guarantees of weather, the snowy motifs made her feel a little less alone and out of place, and had been playing along for a while with her insistence they were about her. “Of course we need them.”

“That’s how everyone will know the tree is mine,” she said proudly. 

“We have enough now,” Deke said. “Our tree isn’t that big, and we still have lights and garland for it-” “No,” she insisted, and another boxed ornament was in her hand. “Just one more?” The ornament was a ceramic retro styled semi truck, decked out in Christmas lights and wreaths. Deke looked at it, and spent a second in confusion as to why she’d want such a mundane thing on the tree, until it clicked.  Despite the hard times she’d had in her past, she still had a few fond memories of her adventures with the crew- Jaco in particular- and an occasional homesickness for her intergalactic, interdimensional home for so many years. And for all her confusion, she’d seemed to figure out part of Christmas was celebrating the past. “We.. we never had Christmas… or much of any holidays, really, it happens when you can’t really stay in one place for too long, on there… but it’d be like this, if we had,” she said. “You know.. Just in memory of the family who couldn’t make it.”

Deke nodded. He’d lost his family going back in time too, and understood how Snow felt. The tree was covered in lemons as a sort of nod to his past, and adding snowflakes and trucks to that mix just seemed right. 

“You’re right,” he said. “We’ll buy this one more thing.” “One more? Oh no,” she said, and in her hands was a strand of lights with clear snowflakes around the bulbs. “That dead tree isn’t done until you can barely see tree under it.”

Deke smiled. She was starting to get it.

~

The smell of cakes and pies

Are absolutely everywhere

 “What’s your favorite sweet?” Deke asked, out of nowhere at breakfast on a cold December morning, a few days before Christmas. 

“Huh?”

“Nana and Bobo are coming Christmas morning. So we’ll be doing the cooking this year and having our dinner with them. I thought I’d make the actual dinner, you could maybe do the baking and something sweet for dessert? I know you love sweets.” 

Snow thought for a moment, then started listing things, counting them off on her fingers. “Cookies.. Pies.. cakes.. Bread-” She stopped suddenly. 

“What’s wrong?” Deke asked. “I thought you loved all the treats you’ve been trying this month.”

“I do, they’ve all been divine. I just thought of my options for baking and then I thought of how much Jaco would love this time of year… He taught me a few things and I can probably use that knowledge to make just about anything, but it’s just not the same without him there to give me advice.” Her blue eyes grew big with bittersweet memories and Deke could see the sparkle of tears forming in them. Her sad face always destroyed him, knowing all the pain and loss her expression held. Deke grabbed for her hands and held them tightly. 

“We have cookbooks… we can call Nana for advice, she’s a biochemist, baking is just chemistry you eat… we can watch videos if you get stuck. I know it won’t be the same, and I know nothing will ever replace what he meant to you, as a big brother.”

Snow nodded. 

“But he’s also always right there in your heart, no matter what,” Deke said. “Nana taught me that about loss, people never really leave us, as long as we remember them. So bake the most delicious Christmas treats you can, and make him proud. And as long as you do that, as long as you use what you learned from him, Jaco will be with us.” 

“You’re right,” she agreed. “I’ll do the best baking anyone’s ever tried, and it’s all going to be in his memory.” “That’s the spirit. So what are you making, then?” Deke asked her. 

“Everything!”

~

The sights, the sounds

They're everywhere and all around

I've never felt so good before

This empty place inside of me is filling up

I simply cannot get enough

 Navigating last minute shopping downtown was the last thing Deke expected to be a challenge for the two of them, but it had become one. It was a case of Snowflake’s natural, corvid-like attraction to shiny, sparkly objects- and Deke trying to stop her before her natural kleptomaniac impulses could kick in-against her lack of acclimation to so much sparkling, bright, merry surroundings. Spending a  good part of your life in a dimly lit truck was something that stuck with you for a while, and even on the most neon lit planet she’d paid a visit on her journey, nothing could top the spectacle of Earth during the Christmas season. Every surface sparkled and shone with bright lights and glitter and tinsel and foil, every storefront played happy tunes about warm feelings, and the jingle of bells was never too far, as though magic simply floated through the atmosphere at that time of year. 

It was everything Snow ever loved, but it was also so, so much, almost too much for her at times. The sensory overload tired her out and she quietly pulled on Deke’s arm, guiding him to a nearby bench. He understood immediately and followed her to sit down beside her.

“I think I’m finally starting to understand this Christmas,” Snowflake said. “It’s still strange to me in a lot of ways, but whatever, life is boring without a little strangeness, isn’t it?” 

“Guess that means as long as I’ve got you my life will never be boring, then,” Deke replied. Snow playfully punched him in the arm, even though she knew he was right.

“I’ve seen so much in my short life and so many different worlds but this is the first I’ve seen where everyone spends a month just being kind to one another, giving out of the goodness of their hearts, inviting others into their homes to share food and company and good times, just loving each other. Before I came here… we didn’t have a lot. We were poor constantly, we only really had each other, and we ate almost every meal like it was our last because we never knew when our next would be coming. It’s so different going from that… to all this.”

Deke held her tight. “But you know things are different for you now, right? You don’t have to worry anymore, you know that.”

“I do, and that’s why I understand. Because I feel like that’s what all this is about. The winter is dark and cold and long, and sometimes, people don’t have what you do, and we just have each other. So we make everything brighter and warmer and share what we have with people who might not. We remember the people we love who might not be here. And it makes that darkness just a little easier to get through, if we get through it together.”

Deke was at a loss for words. He himself had never considered Christmas that way, but what she had to say was absolutely right. The two were from such different backgrounds, but in the end, they weren’t that different, two people who were thrown from their normal into something totally new. He was proud of her for coming to that conclusion by herself, because deep inside, it sorted things out for him, too. 

“You know, I don’t understand as much as I pretend to sometimes, in fact I understand literally nothing, but I think you’re right.”

“I figured it out with your help. I’m so grateful I have you to help me learn and feel less alone, less weird, less different. You’re better than any present anyone could ever give me.”

“Really? I just do my best…”

“It’s all we really can do, isn’t it?”

~

I want it, oh, I want it

Oh, I want it for my own

I've got to know

I've got to know

What is this place that I have found?

What is this?

Christmas Town, hmm

 It was Christmas morning, and the grandparents were due, and Deke was mildly nervous about how well the future granddaughter in law would go over with them. Although it took a while to get them acclimated to their… eccentric… new family member, Fitz and Jemma, on the whole, were able to move past their initial misgivings and find aspects of her they could both admire and focus on, rather than the fact a woman they met after she tried to murder one of their found family, would soon be married into theirs. “Just… try to not horrify them too much,” he reminded her that morning. “I know in-laws can be difficult, but I think we can manage the best Christmas ever as a family, too.”

“Deke, I’ll be fine,” Snow reassured him. She was dressed for the festive occasion, wearing a knit sweater, covered, of course, in silver foil yarn snowflakes. The words LET IT SNOW filled the front of it. “It’s not like I’ve never met them before.” She reached into the oven and pulled out a tray of gingerbread people to cool. Sitting on the kitchen table was an array of the goodies she’d stayed up all night baking. After all, she needed something to do to pass the time in case Santa paid them a visit, so she could sit down with him and teach him basic stealth principles. Platters of cookies in various shapes and varieties- snickerdoodle stars,  sugar cookie snowflakes, and a small pile of shortbread butterflies- and a big basket of fluffy herbed rolls, a recipe she’d learned years ago from Jaco, covered almost every surface. “What do you think? They’re going to love it.”

Deke smiled. “It’s great but.. Where am I going to put the turkey, or just about anything else?”

“We have a whole living room,” Snow said, and Deke raised a finger and opened his mouth, ready to point out maybe that was a better place for the sweets, but he wasn’t about to be a buzzkill when she was in such an excited mood. 

“Right, right, living room turkey. Classic Christmas tradition. Right.” This was going to be a fun one to explain to Nana and Bobo… who were ringing the doorbell that very minute.

“I’ll get it-” Deke insisted, but Snowflake was already opening the door to welcome the two in. “Merry Christmas!” she squealed, in a cheerful singsong voice. Fitz tried to dodge her embrace by sidestepping her, but her well-trained reflexes were faster, and he found himself in an awkward hug from the tiny woman, sending desperate looks Jemma’s way. His wife gave him a look that said, without any words, oh no, she’s your problem now. “Bobo!”

“Pleasedon’tcallmethat,” Fitz muttered under his breath. Jemma helpfully pulled Snow off him to give her adopted future granddaughter in law a hug, only for Deke to quickly swoop in on his grandpa before he could even enjoy his newfound freedom.  Snow was surprised. She’d always had a harder time getting through to Nana, but maybe it was the holiday spirit bringing them a little closer today. Just a bit more of that magic she’d never totally understand, but that was fine.

“Oh, Snow, how have you been hanging in there?” Jemma asked her. 

“Baking!” Snow said proudly. “So many cookies in the kitchen, and more coming, please eat them so Deke doesn’t have to put the turkey in the living room!” Jemma mouthed something that looked like “what?” to Deke and he replied silently with one of his usual “don’t ask” shrugs. 

“Great, I need coffee. We grabbed the redeye flight and I wasn’t about to pay ten dollars at the airport,” Fitz said. “Bloody crooks.” 

“Also in the kitchen, unless Snow finished it in the ten minutes since I made the pot,” Deke said. He was eager to diffuse some of the awkwardness that was growing in the apartment. A little awkwardness might be part of the holidays, too, but it seemed to run more in this family than others. A little strangeness keeps life from being boring, that’s what Snow said, he reminded himself. But if he could help it, he preferred to not exhaust the entire day’s supply this early in the morning. 

~

After a delicious Christmas dinner -where the turkey, thankfully, remained on the kitchen table- the Fitzsimmons-Shaw-Snowflake family gathered in the living room to enjoy one another’s company by the fireplace. Card games were played, stories were told, and everyone just seemed to come a little closer together.

“Hey Snow,” Deke said, during a bit of a lull, as their feast began catching up to everyone and making them tired, “why don’t you put on a Christmas movie for us?” 

“I’d love to!” she said. “Deke taught me about Christmas watching these, and you know? I really love Earth more now. It’s the only planet that does all this.” She turned the TV on and from the menu, flipped over to the movie that had been making her feel like she  truly belonged over the last few weeks, the one she knew almost by heart. The soundtrack kicked in and a voiceover started. “Now, you’ve probably wondered where holidays come from… if you haven’t, I think it’s time you’ve begun-”

“Snow, are you sure you want to go with this one?” Deke asked, realizing oh god, she’s really going to play Nightmare Before Christmas for Nana and Bobo. Not Elf, not Christmas Vacation, this one. 

“Of course! It taught me so much, the least I can do is share that with your grandparents,” she said. Deke looked desperately at Jemma and Fitz, hoping for at least disapproving or bewildered expressions from them to convince Snow- well, really, him, and he knew this- that this was a bad idea, but to his surprise, they seemed okay with her offbeat choice. 

“That’s so sweet,” Jemma said. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one, either.”

Deke shrugged. If the grandparents were happy, so was he. He poured everyone another mug of hot cocoa,  as This Is Halloween started playing in the background, 

Sometimes the best gifts at Christmas didn’t come in packages. Sometimes the best gift was the gift of family, the gift of memories, the gift of time spent with those close, and if this Christmas brought his family, new and old, closer together, then for him, it was truly a Christmas worth celebrating. 

[confetti-bones]

Save me

Jungkook X Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Kidnapping

 It was another normal day for you in the coffee shop that you worked at. Customers came and went ordering different drinks and different pastries leaving the occasional tip.

     Most days were like this for you. You would go to your college classes then you'd show up to work for a few hours; making eight dollars an hour. In all honesty with how some customers acted you would think that you'd earn more than that but no. 

    One of the annoying customers that you have goes by the name Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook is a regular at the shop. He usually orders some sort of drink and a banana muffin. 

       Jungkook at first came to the shop every once in a while to order drinks like a normal person; but as soon as you started working there he was at the shop everyday trying to get your phone number and a date, only to get rejected every time. You just weren't interested and he just couldn't understand that for some reason; like he's attractive and everything, but your just not looking to date right now with how busy you are. Besides it's not like Jungkook was any better schedule wise, in fact he was probably twice as busy as you are! You see Jungkook doesn't have a normal job like everybody else. Infact Jungkook isn't like everybody else. Jungkook is a hero. A superhero. 

    In this world heros and villians exist. Some people were born with powers and others were not; and Jeon Jungkook just so happened to be born with them. And like most people with powers, he decided to use them. 

     Jungkook was gifted with the powers of super strength, super speed and flight. He was one of the more popular and powerful heroes out there and he was proud of it. 

      After saving some women from a burning building, the man got lots of praise and it all ended up going to his head and inflating his ego. 

    So everytime you, a barista at a coffee shop says no when he asks you out on a date he can't seem to wrap his head around it.

     "Why no? Come on Y/n just one date." Jungkook begs. You instantly shake your head. 

    "Jungkook no, I don't want to go on a date with you" 

    "Why not?" Jungkook whines. You sighed in annoyance and look to see a line starting from behind the man. 

     "If your just gonna stand there and whine you should just leave. People are waiting to have their orders taken and your in the way." You state. Jungkook pouts at you and steps to the side so the next person in line could have their order taken.

      Once you were done taking their order you turn to Jungkook and raise an eyebrow at him.

    "Don't you have a kitten to be saving from some tree somewhere? What are you even doing still standing there. Your intimidating my customers it's bad for business." You say. Jungkook instantly makes an offended face at this, but before he could respond a little boy walks up to him with a notebook in hand and asks him for his autograph. Jungkook instantly agrees and signs the boys notebook before turning and smirking at you.

     "Bad for business huh?" You only sigh in response and start to take other customers orders; ignoring the man and praying that work will end soon.

…………………………………..

   Eventually work was over and it was time for you to go home. 

     As soon as you stepped out the back entrance into the Ally way you noticed Jungkook leaned against the wall. 

     "Are you really about to ask me out in an ally?" You ask while taking a few steps towards where he was standing. Jungkook nods and smiles at you before saying,

    "Would you go out on a date with me?" You shake your head and sigh.

    "Sorry but my answers the same. No." You respond. 

    "Can I at least get your phone number? Please Y/n, I won't even bother you or anything; I just want to have it in case if your in trouble or something" Jungkook says. You sigh and walk up to Jungkook pulling out your phone. I wouldn't mind having his number I guess, but only for emergency reasons. 

    The two of you exchange phone number and Jungkook gives you a happy bunny smile before your finally able to go home.

…………………………….

    The next few days after that are completely uneventful. You go to work and to school. You do homework you eat sleep and do all the things normal people need to do to live. The only thing odd that happens is that you feel watched.

   You sigh as you step out of the shop and start to head home. It was dark and slightly rainy out. Today you had to close up shop by yourself. Your coworker Yoongi had to leave early for whatever reason leaving you alone. 

      As you walked you couldn't help but feel like you were being followed. You instantly speed up and take a quick glance around. There was nobody in sight. Just because you don't see anybody didn't mean that their not there, I should speed up and try to get home. You then walk slightly faster and you can't help but still feel a gaze on you so you pull out your phone and bring up Jungkook's contact as you walk. I wouldn't call him ever, but this is just doesn't feel right. 

      You take one more glance around and you hear someone snickering quietly to their self. That sounds like it's coming from above. You then look up to see none other than Jungkook floating above you. 

    "Jungkook what the fuck!" You exclaim. Jungkook then lands on his feet in front of you.

    "I was just trying to scare you a little. Were you gonna call me? That's so cute." Jungkook says

   "Ugh you're such a dick, do you see why I don't want to go out with you now." You say angrily. You couldn't help but feel mad, Jungkook scared the shit out of you. 

     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was also trying to make sure you got home safely. A lady as beautiful as you should not be walking around this late at night you know."

    "Yeah so creeps like you can't follow me. You should just go away." You say. Jungkook smiles and asks,

    "Are you sure? I really don't want you to get hurt or anything….. I could just pick you up and fly you home you know." You shake your head. 

     "That sounds like a terrible idea. Just go home Jungkook I'll be fine." You say. Jungkook nods his head and bids you farewell before flying off to god knows where.

     You then started to make your way home again. But as you walked you still felt like someone was watching you. But then again did that feeling ever go away? 

     You quickly start to walk again and glance around before you feel someone grab you from behind. You instantly try to fight off the person.

    "Help! Somebody help!" You yell. The person then puts their hand over your mouth and whispers in your ear,

    "Sorry but nobody can help you" they then put a cloth over your mouth and you refuse to breath in for a few seconds and try one last attempt at getting out of your kidnappers grasp. It sadly doesn't work and you end up breathing into the cloth and passing out.  

……………………………

     Eventually you wake up only to find yourself in a dark room. The room was completely empty, the only thing in it was you and the chair you were tied up to. Why did this happen to me? I just wanted to go home. Then a man walks in. The man had a very handsome face. One of his eyes were monolid and he had a mole on his nose. 

    "Who are you? Where am I?" You ask. The man gives you a boxy grin and responds,

     "My name is V and I kidnapped you" you take a shaky breath of air feeling like your about to cry.

     "Why? What do you want from me?" V stays quiet for a few seconds and paces around the room.

     "I couldn't help but notice that you were in a relationship with the hero Jungkook. So I decided to kidnap you" V says.

    "What are you going to do to me? Can't you just let me go? I don't have a relationship with Jungkook at all" you say feeling panicked. V gives you another smile and shrugs his shoulders.

     "I honestly don't even know what I'm gonna do with you. I didn't think I'd get this far."

     "What!" You say surprised. V just shrugs again.

   "I didn't think I'd actually be able to kidnap you. This is as much of a surprise for me as it is you. I'm probably just gonna demand for money or something. I just wanted to give him a scare. He beat me in an overwatch match and I needed to get back at him."

     "So you kidnapped me! What the fuck is wrong with you!" V just smiles at you and grabs your phone. 

    "Well anyway I'm gonna call Jungkook and put you on the phone. Your gonna demand for help and then I'm gonna tell Jungkook what I want." You slowly nod your head, and V bring up Jungkook's contact. 

    Once V presses call he holds the phone up to your ear. The phone rings for a few seconds before Jungkook finally answers.

     "Hello Y/N? Why are you calling me?" Jungkook asks. Jungkook's voice is groggy as if he had just woken up.

     "Jungkook I've been kidnapped. This is your fault so you better come and save me" you say. V then takes the phone from your ear and starts to speak to Jungkook.

     "Jungkook it's me the great villain V and I have kidnapped your girlfriend-"

    "I'm not his girlfriend" you interrupt. V looks at you and sighs before speaking again,

     "I have kidnapped your girlfriend. And I'll let her go if you pay me ummm, like I don't know five hundred dollars or something" V says while glancing over at you with a confused facial expression. You give him a look that says 'seriously?' and he flashes you a smile that says 'i guess' then you hear Jungkook yell through the phone about how he was gonna save you and that you shouldn't be scared. But at this point you weren't scared. This V guy obviously doesn't know what he's doing and he honestly couldn't even hurt a fly if he tried.

     "So while we wait for Jungkook do you wanna play overwatch? I'll untie you" V offers. You nod your head in agreement. I don't really wanna play but as long as long as these ropes come off I guess I wouldn't mind. So V gets to work on untying you. 

…………………………….

   After what felt like a good twenty minutes of getting your butt kicked at overwatch, Jungkook was finally here to save you. 

     Jungkook kicked the door open so hard that it flew off its hinges and barged into the house only to see you on an intense match of overwatch.

     "Oh hey Jungkook, finally here to save me?" You ask without taking your eyes off the screen. V gives Jungkook a small wave and concentrates on the game in front of him.

     "Did you bring the five hundred dollars?" 

"No, why would I bring five hundred dollars when I could just save Y/N for free?" Jungkook says before walking over to you and grabbing your arm. He then pulls you out of Vs evil lair or whatever it is and walks you out. 

    "Well that was easy." Jungkook says as he starts to walk you home.

   The two of you eventually get to your house and stand in front of the door.

    "You know, even though V wasn't a real villain I believe this is the part where the hero gets a kiss from the girl" Jungkook says. You sigh and walk up to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek,

     "My hero"

[keeroo92]

True North Part 3

This practically write itself. Thanks again @clevermentalitybeliever for your support! I kinda have to apologize for the giant pile of angst I’m leaving you, but the payout’s gonna be so good...This has turned into quite a project and I’m loving every minute!

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 2

Trigger/content warning - mentions of physical abuse.

____________________

V rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, putting the car in park. He was half an hour early for work, but this was when you normally arrived. Your car wasn’t there yet, not a good sign. He took a gulp of his coffee, the strongest the barista could manage. So far, it hadn’t helped much. Six shots only to not lose consciousness.

He occupied his mind by thinking of new jokes, new ways to make you smile. Did you like pranks? Dante played enough on him as a child, he had plenty of ideas. Some would need to be toned down, Dante wasn’t exactly gentle.

He checked his phone. Ten minutes since he arrived.

How long should he wait before texting you? There hadn’t been any more messages since last night, but even in his current state he knew he was being paranoid. He couldn’t stop worrying, it was eating him alive and he didn’t understand why. You were his boss and his friend, yes, but so was Nero and he didn’t have this reaction to him being in danger.

Well, Nero is a fighter. He can take care of himself. She can’t.

That I know of.

He took another sip of coffee. The trouble was how much he simply didn’t know. His mind filled in the blanks with the worst case scenarios on repeat, merciless in its torment. It made him want to scream.

Another sip.

Was that an engine? He scanned the portion of road he could see in the rearview mirror, spotting a sedan on approach. It was the wrong color and he sat back with a huff. How long now? He checked his phone.

It’s only been fifteen minutes.

He sighed. Truly, this was driving him mad. All he wanted was to see you safe, make sure he hadn’t fucked up again. Why was that so exhausting, just to want one person to be safe?

Another sip.

His phone dinged.

Srry for late request, can U pick me up? Caleb not home.

V frowned. Was something wrong with your car? Did Caleb damage it somehow? It didn’t matter – he’d find out soon enough. He tapped out a quick response that he was on the way and started the car.

---Reader---

You smiled at his response. It was a relief to know that despite the disaster last night, V would still be there for you. He was a good man, a good friend. Honorable. Funny. Attractive.

And there I go again, thinking about how wonderful my employee is…

You distracted yourself by checking your email, catching up on your inbox as you waited by the window. There he was, pulling in right out front. You tapped the screen and hit send, telling him you were headed out to meet him.

You checked your reflection one more time, lifting the hem of your shirt to eye the angry bruise covering the lowest rib on the left side. It hurt like a bitch, but you didn’t think anything was broken. Cracked, at worst. You could get it looked at after work. All you had to do was not breathe deeply or twist and it should be fine.

Goddamnit, Caleb…

He was so kind growing up. Only over the last few years had he turned sour and angry. Sometimes he showed glimpses of who he used to be, and you weren’t quite ready to give up on him yet. Besides, he’d only hurt you a few times. Things would get better. He would get better. You just had to have faith.

He’s my brother and he loves me. He’s just going through a tough time.

You sighed and grabbed your purse. A twinge of pain in your side reminded you not to do that and you grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

Outside, V already had the door open for you. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a dull sheen replacing the usual glint of energy within them. It was obvious he’d barely slept. You tried to move the same way you always did, hiding the pain under a mask of normalcy. Pain was temporary, family was forever.

“Thanks for coming,” you said. V smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Anytime.”

As if I didn’t feel bad enough already…

You buckled your seatbelt and realized this was the first time you’d ridden with him. He didn’t seem like he’d be a reckless driver, but you crossed your fingers anyway.

“So, where’s your car?” he asked.

“Caleb borrowed it.”

He frowned and pulled onto the main road. So far, so good. He was silent for a long time, eyes focused on the road. The silence was deafening, and you were tempted to try the radio when his lips parted.

“What happened after I left?”

There it was. The question you had no idea how to answer. You hated lying, and V deserved better. The truth was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. You swallowed and looked at your lap, watching your fingers fidget.

“He calmed down and went to bed. No big deal.”

His eyes stole a glance at your face as he stopped for a red light. He didn’t look away until the car in front of him moved, not even blinking as he watched you. It was unnerving and you hoped he’d go back to his normal self by the time you got to work.

Maybe a little less funny for a few days, just till I’m better…

He sighed. “You know, I don’t just think of you as my boss. You’re my friend. If Caleb ever crosses the line, I hope you trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, how do I respond to that?

The truth welled up in your throat again, threatening to force its way into the open. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw until it subsided. The desire to tell V everything was strong, but you were stronger. You had to be.

“I do trust you. There’s nothing to worry about. He’s all bark, no bite.”

Your voice sounded tremulous to your ears, but V nodded. His easy acceptance of your lie left you feeling sick as he pulled into the parking lot. Bile rose in your throat and you shoved it back as you got out of the car, moving slowly to favor your rib.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” V asked.

Damnit.

“Just a stomachache, I’ll be fine once I get some pepto.”

Once inside, you took stock. It wasn’t usually a problem if you left the shop in Peter’s hands, it rarely got busy enough to warrant more than two people working at a time. Nothing looked too far behind, so yesterday was more of the same.

“Can you start the sorting? I’ll do some appraisals until we open,” you said. Though he didn’t look happy to be assigned work on the other side of the building, V did as you asked. You breathed a careful sigh of relief and got to work, praying you’d make it through the day.

---V---

It was over a week before you seemed normal again, moving with ease and confidence throughout the shop. He hated keeping his mouth shut, hated that he was at least eighty percent certain of why you favored your left side. It stung that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth, but he understood and did his best to respect the boundary.

He swore if it ever happened again, he would unleash all his fury on Caleb.

The time he shared with you was precious and rare as the holidays approached, one of the two busy seasons. You hired a few seasonal employees and sent V to handle their training. It was either a compliment to his growing skill or an attempt to maintain some distance, and his mixed feelings left him confused and annoyed.

He wished every day that the easy, joking nature of your friendship would return, and every day he was disappointed. It hurt, far more than he would’ve guessed. You were the first friend he’d made in his new life after the Qlipoth. He was friendly with all his coworkers, but none of them made him smile the way you did.

He missed his familiars, too. Their companionship was worth more than he knew, and every time he felt the threads of connection that once flowed to them it broke his heart a little bit more.

By the week of Thanksgiving, he was the opposite of thankful.

He didn’t have any plans for the evening itself, and found himself going to work just to keep his mind occupied. He had a key now. You trusted him more with your business than your friendship.

Stop thinking about it. It never helps. Focus on the task in front of you.

A massive pile of new arrivals arrived just yesterday. It needed to be sorted and appraised, then he’d see how much he could fit on the sales floor before Black Friday. A daunting task, perfect to use as a distraction. He lost himself in it easily.

Hours passed. He didn’t notice how late it was until his phone buzzed angrily on the counter by his elbow. Nero was calling.

We’ve barely spoken in months, why is he calling me now?

He tapped the green button, then put it on speaker. “Hello.”

“V! Where the fuck are you? Turkey’s almost ready!”

His brows furrowed. Not once had Nero mentioned he was welcome for the feast, and Fortuna was a seven hour drive away. He picked up the phone and switched off speaker, already pacing. He could barely hear the young man with the cacophony in the background. Quite a party he was missing.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t told I was welcome.”

“Dude. We didn’t think you were so dense you needed to hear it out loud. You’re always welcome.”

His lips twitched. A simple miscommunication, then. How absurd, to have wasted so much energy and time feeling lonely. Relationships were far too complicated; he wasn’t a mind reader, how was he supposed to know?

“Next time, I’d appreciate more direct communication.”

“Yeah, no problem. Guessing you can’t make it, then? Still in Red Grave?”

“Yes, I have to work tomorrow.”

“All right, well I’m putting you on speaker. Everybody say hi to Uncle V!”

What sounded like at least fifty people shouted out various iterations of the greeting and V’s heart warmed at the sheer number of voices on the other end. Only one was missing.

Yours.

He sighed. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll visit soon, I promise.”

“You better!”

The line cut out for a moment as Nero took him off speaker. The background noise faded and V could almost hear Nero’s heavy footsteps as he left behind the bulk of the group.

“What’s up, brother? You seem weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

What should he say? Was any of it even worth mentioning? Nero was at a party, he had better things to do than listen to his complaints.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Tell me or I start driving.”

And suddenly he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The stress, the guilt, the loneliness. His joy at finding a friend and his sorrow at the chasm that now separated you. How much it hurt to be held at arms distance. The pain that despite the victory over Urizen, he felt like he’d lost. By the time he fell silent, he was utterly drained.

“Jeez, dude… That’s a lot. I’m sorry you’re dealing with so much shit. I mean, the way you talk about Y/N sounds like how I talk about Kyrie.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Damn, you really are dense sometimes. I mean you want more than friendship from her. That’s why it hurts so much. You got feelings.”

V sighed. He could hardly believe he was actually listening to Nero. But he was the only person he knew in a successful relationship, so maybe he had a point.

“I can’t deny I’ve entertained the thought. More than once. I’ve almost paid her back, but she’s still my boss.”

“Then quit. Find a new job.”

He shook his head. “I like working here, though. Working with her.”

“You need to figure out what’s more important, then. The job, or the lady. Ah, shit, someone started a food fight. I gotta go, but call me soon. Or I’ll call you, whatever.”

“Thanks, Nero. Talk to you soon.”

He lowered the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a lot of thinking to do, but there was one thing he had to do first. With a few taps of the touch screen, he hit send before he could think too much. Three words.

I miss you.

Part 4